Could you Watch Him Die?
by madamwolf
Summary: Wilson has had many patients die, he has had to inform many families. But what happens when one family seeks revenge for their lost one in the worst way possible? Will they succeed? Dark themes, offensive language, no slash, strong friendship.
1. Kidnapping

**AN:** Well… here I am. An angst fic about Wilson, what'd I say in my last fic, told you it was only a matter of time before I came out with one. This is one of two fics I'm really interested in writing. I'm starting this one first because the other requires knowledge of diseases that I still have to finish reading up on since I am no doctor (but I play one on TV, hehe).

For those of you who have read my other works you'll know I like angst. In fact I have an angst C2. This will be DARK if you can't handle it then please don't read it, if you want warm fuzzy puppies and pink posies go find another fic.

**Disclaimer:** I own NOTHING! Please, if I owned it our beloved wonder boy oncologist would… well hey I'd own him… hehehehehe. Maybe our little Intensive Care wombat too… yes I'd like to own him…

**Warnings:** Like I said, dark, angst, torture, violence and other icky words that would describe this. No pairing that I can think of… probably none. Bad language, some anti-Semitism maybe? I dunno, I'm thinking of the possibilities. Yeah, anti-Semitism defiantly. (As you can see I haven't begun to write it yet and once I start writing Lord knows what I'm gonna come up with)

Kidnapping

Doctor James Wilson sat in his office fairly late one Tuesday night doing paperwork, he was behind on it and it just kept piling up more and more. He sighed and rested his head down on the table for a moment to close his eyes.

"Sleeping on the job?"

James's eyes shot open and he stared down at the desk for a moment before lifting his head, he hadn't even had his eyes closed for a minute before he was interrupted. Moaning slightly he lifted his head to find House sitting down across from his desk tapping his cane on the floor with a steady and yet annoying rhythm.

"I wasn't sleeping." He said as he reorganized the papers on his desk. "I was resting my eyes."

"Yeah, and I go in the back storage room and make out with Cameron and Cuddy in my spare time."

James raised his eyebrows and looked up at him from his desk. "I knew it." He said simply before picking up the pen and writing a few things down on a file. "Are you just here to annoy me or is there some deeper purpose for your presence?" He asked with only half his attention on House.

House looked up to the ceiling and thought for a moment before looking back down and responding. "Nah… I'm just gonna annoy you."

"Joy."

"You seem oddly dull tonight, I mean more the usual."

"I'm working."

"You're always working. We never spend any time together anymore I feel like I hardly know you!" House whined sarcastically.

He dropped the pen and placed both his arms on his desk, he chose to ignore the end half of the comment made by House. "Well, I am at work… working seems to be the right angle to aim from."

House gave a mock laugh and threw his head back.

"Yes, House, its funny some people actually work while they're at work not just sit in their office and play with a yo-yo all day."

"That's cruel." The older man smirked. "I think I'm rubbing off on you."

"I'm sorry," Wilson apologized lifting his head back up to look at his friend. He knew he was being a bit snappy and it wasn't fair... even if it was House he was directing his frustration to. "I'm just real swamped right now."

House grunted and stood up waking his cane on the desk to gather James's attention, he looked up expectantly at him. "If you're gonna be this responsible tonight I'm going home."

"Night, House." He said looked back down at his work.

"Night, Wilson." He said as he limped out of the office and into the hall.

* * *

A few hours later James left the hospital, it was late, most of the graveyard shift was there now. Cuddy had tried to get him to go home earlier, but he refused and locked himself in his office, he had to get the paperwork done. But finally he finished every page of it and now tomorrow he won't have any worries about it. 

He walked out into the parking lot, fishing for his keys in his pants pocket. When he reached his car he had to take a few extra moments to find the right key that would unlock his car, but when he did get it open and get inside he buckled his seat belt, rested his hands on the wheel and closed his eyes. He had stayed too late, he was tired but he forced his eyes open, fearing that if he kept them closed too long he'd fall asleep. Reaching down he started up his car and made his way out of the hospital parking lot.

He was about halfway to his hotel when he stopped at a red light and closed his eyes for a moment. If he were any more alert he would have noticed the black car with tinted windows pull up next to him, but he wasn't alert at the moment. There was quick beep and James shot his eyes open, startled. He looked ahead and saw a now green light, looking in his rear view mirror for a second as he began to drive once more he saw a red car behind him, the only car, they must have beeped.

He let out a long breath and blink hard a few times the sleep was getting overpowering. He leaned over and reached for the stereo, hoping that there was some obnoxious song that was playing could keep him awake. He wasn't in the mood for a car accident at the moment, he should never of stayed so late, he did the same thing the day before and was running on just a few hours of sleep. Lucky for him tonight if he got home in the next five or ten minutes he could get a good six hours of sleep in, and maybe later take a nap on that nice couch he had in his office… maybe without House bugging him.

He turned the last corner and saw the light of his hotel about 100 yards down the road. He sighed and pulled into the dark parking lot. This place wasn't a Motel 6 by far, but then again it was no Holiday Inn either, it was comfortably in the middle. He pulled into the back, where his room happen to be, and grabbed his briefcase before walking out of the car, locking it behind him he walked down the parking lot to reach his room. Along side him a black car pulled up with tinted windows, the same one from the light if he had been paying attention.

He noticed the car and became suspicious immediately, all fatigue he had been feeling gone. It stopped next to him and the passenger door opened, a man walked out, but in the poor lighting of the parking lot James wasn't able to see his face.

"Excuse me, Sir?" The man asked.

James stopped and looked over to him, holding his briefcase tightly in his hand. "Yes?" He responded, trying to sound friendly.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but me and my friend, well, we seem to be lost, could you help us out?"

The oncologist let out a low sigh of relief. This guy just wanted directions, but why not wait here in the hotel for the night and figure it out in the morning? "Oh," he said and nodded. "Where you headed?"

"My sister's house, she just moved here and I can't seem to find it, been driving around forever."

No wonder they wouldn't stay in a hotel, they already had a place to stay. "Where's she live?" James asked letting his guard down more and more.

"Well, she gave me route to follow on a map, better show you that, I'm God awful with road names." The man moved back to his car, James watched and got a quick glimpse of the man in the drivers seat. He pulled out an unfolded map from the seat of the car and opened it up for James.

He took the map and studied it for a moment before nodding. "Oh I know where this is. Maybe fifteen minutes from here."

"Ya know, Dr. Wilson, that's just great news."

James frowned and looked up sharply just in time to see a bat come flying down at his head. The last thing he remembered was the man saying, "He's out, open the trunk and give me the duct tape."


	2. Alone

**AN:** Anti-Semitism in this chapter, just a warning. I'm sorry if I offend anyone, I don't mean too but they're the bad guys… and they're bad… I hope you like this little dose of Wilson angst… I am… (Wow I have issues). But this update is so quick cuz I was home all day today so I had plenty of time to write... So enjoy.

**Who saw the new episode after the super bowl?!** Is it just me or does Wilson get funnier and funnier as the series goes on? Cuz he was cracking me the hell up! And for those of you who stayed up that late to see it (I did, even though I was already tapping it for my dad, it was a school night for me and I ended up missing my bus and my dad took my car to his work, fun) I can't believe Wilson's (loud obnoxious music plays momentarily) bitch! I don't want to spoil anything.

Alone

James awoke to the soft dripping of water from a faucet of some kind. He slowly cracked open his eyes to find himself in a dark, cold room, it looked like a basement, there were stairs on the right wall. He looked around and realized there was a tap in the far corner, he sighed, knowing that if this silence kept up that dripping would get annoying and it certainly wasn't doing anything for his massive headache at the moment.

He tried to move and get in a more comfortable position, but he quickly learned that had hands were tied tightly behind his back, and his ankles were tied together. He tugged on his restraints a few times, but it was all in vain, there was no way of getting out of them. Letting a moan escape his lips he leaned against the stone wall. He chocked on a cry as he thought about his predicament, but he wasn't able to think long, a door opened from the top of the stairs and light momentarily flooded into the dim room.

The door slammed shut making James wince from the sudden noise. He sank deeper into the wall and watched as heavy boots came stomping down the wood steps. The man had no mask on his face, either he didn't care is James told everyone what he looked like or he planned on killing him. He prayed it wasn't the latter.

"Well, well," the man said as he walked over, James soon realized it was the man that had hit him over the head. He had a large muscle based frame and an amused face, one of a mad-man. "The good Doctor's awake." He moved closer to James. "Allow me to introduce myself, I'm Carthwall, Steven Carthwall, you might remember me."

He looked down for a moment and though, Carthwall, Carthwall… the name sounded familiar but he couldn't remember from where. He had met, and lost, so many people in his life by being an oncologist that after a while you did tend to forget some. But then, a look of realization showed up on his face, as if there was really a light bulb over it.

"You remember I see." Carthwall grinned.

He nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking. "Y – yeah, your wife she had brain cancer… I treated her."

"NO!" He exclaimed and kicked a nearby wooden crate so it crashed into the wall. "If you had treated her, she'd be alive right now! Wouldn't she?"

"I did my best," he responded shakily. "The cancer was caught to late there was nothing I –"

"So you're saying this is my fault?! Are you saying I'm the one responsible for my own wife's death?!" He cried out and stepping even closer to James.

He frantically shook his head and looked down. "No… no, no, I never said that. It was serious, even if she had gotten treatment earlier the outcome wouldn't have changed."

"You're the Doctor! The _miracle worker!_ It was your fault!"

"No."

"It was you! You're the one who failed, you're the one responsible for her death, now admit it."

"I… I… didn't…" James stuttered not sure what to say or do.

Angrily Carthwall walked over and harshly backhanded James across the face making his cry as it not only aggravated his headache but would soon give him a nice bruise on his face. "It was your fault! Now say it! Confess that it was you!"

James closed his eyes and in a quiet voice he responded. "It was my fault." He whimpered.

"LOUDER!"

"It was my fault!" Wilson cried out.

Carthwall's anger was replaced with an eerie look of accomplishment and satisfaction. "Of course it was your fault, can't expect one of you to be much good at anything now can we?" James momentarily wondered what he meant. "Well, now I'm glad we're able to understand one another." The door opened once more and two figured walked down the stairs. "You it just occurred to me, you haven't met my brother-in-law. This is Daniel Worthen, her brother, and this is my own sister, Sarah."

The second Worthen stepped off the stairs he ran over to James and began beating him with his fists, in the face and stomach. "You bastard! You killed my sister!"

"Danny!" Carthwall cried and pulled the younger man off James with ease. "Not yet."

"He has to pay!"

"I know he does and he will, just give it time."

Sarah walked over to him, now cowering on the floor and caresses his already bruising face with her small delicate hand. James glanced up at her and he saw a smile on her face of pure insanity. "Hm… Can I keep him Steven?" She asked in a dreamy voice.

Carthwall walked over with a smile on his face. "We'll see, dear, we'll see how things play out. You have to remember though, he is a _Jew_ can't trust them." he grabbed his sisters hand and tugged her away.

James eyes widened at the mention of his religion. How could they possibly know he was Jewish? Not that he was ashamed of it, but it's just that he didn't often spread the word to every single one of his patients, if someone asked he would comply but as far as he knew Mrs. Carthwall hadn't asked.

He leaned down next to him and gripped James's jaw firmly in his hand so he had no choice but to look Carthwall in the eyes. "Good night, Doctor, we'll see you in the morning." He threw James's head roughly to the side and stood up.

He led the way as his three captors walked out of the dark basement. He pulled his legs up closer to his chest the best he could and rested his head down on his knees as the three people left him alone. He took in a shuddering breath and exhaled it slowly, or he tried to be slow but he was shaking so much it was hard.

He tried to gain his bearings and warm himself up but it was no use, it seemed that the temperature in the room had dropped about twenty degrees since they had left him alone down here. As he shivered he fought back a sob that threatened to escape his body, but the battle was short lived as he let it out and tears began to run down his face, past the forming bruises and blood.

* * *

Greg House sat in his apartment flipping through the channels on his TV aimlessly, he was beyond boredom. He regretted not staying and hanging out in Wilson's office, annoying him while he did paperwork, or annoying him more then he already did this evening. But he was bored and home seemed like his best bet, this was he had no cases and like hell he was going to go down to the clinic to finish his hours. He could always have Cameron do it for him later, she was vulnerable like that. 

He looked up at the clock that sat on the wall, it read 1:30 A.M. he knew he had to be in work the next day but he wasn't tired he wasn't in the mood to watch TV, he wasn't in the mood for anything really. If it were a few hours earlier he would have called Wilson's cell, maybe they could hit a bar before it got too late in the evening, and if it did get to late the young oncologist could always stay the night, like he did often.

He missed him staying in his apartment, as much as he bugged, prodded and played jokes on Wilson he liked having someone there. If he was bored he always came up with a good movie for them to watch and poke funny commentary at, funny commentary was, well, not to much fun alone. Not only that but he made a killer breakfast.

Glancing up at the clock one more time it now read 1:33 A.M., sighing he turned off the TV with the remote and tossed it down on the couch next to him. He reached for his cane that leaned against the end table and slowly stood up, he had been sitting like that so long he had gotten a bit stiff.

He limped over to the hallway and shut the light out on his way down. It was late, he had work, he was bored. At the moment sleep was his best option, if he was lucky maybe he'd fall asleep fast.


	3. Where's Wilson?

AN: Here you are my pretties. BWHAHAHAHAHA... I'm terribly sorry I'm a bit giddy for Lord knows what reasons. Maybe it's just the fact I'm thinking about Wilson angst I dunno. But here we are with a long chapter, this is a lot like what my normal chapters for a story are, but since this isn't one of my huge epics I don't know if they'll stay this length. With that out of the way, ENJOY THE CHAPTER!!!

Where's Wilson?

House woke up the next morning in pain, he was always in pain in the morning, it didn't make anything better that his alarm clock was going off obnoxiously. He turned it off and winced as he moved his leg around the bed and of the side; it had gotten stiff during the night. He reached over to his nightstand and grabbed the bottle of Vicodin that waited for him every morning. Popping a couple pills in his mouth and dry swallowing them he reached for his cane and forced himself up.

He leaned heavily on his cane as he limped his way over to the bathroom to take a shower before work. It was never a long one, just one to wake him up and maybe sooth his leg with the hot water.

After his shower he moved to his bedroom and grabbed some clothes that he pulled out of his drawers at random. He put them on in minutes not bothering to check himself over in the mirror or fix his hair or anything, he could care less. He moved out to the living room and saw on the clock that if he didn't leave right now he'd be late for work; he must have spent more time in the shower then he thought. But it didn't really matter to him if he waltzed in a little late, he'd done it before, but it would be easier to go there and just buy some coffee or some form of breakfast rather then making it himself, or he could always steal Wilson's.

He got out of his apartment and made his way over to the front door, he had arranged when he got the apartment to get one on the bottom floor. There was an elevator, but there was always the chance that it could break, and he wasn't a fan of stairs.

He hobbled over to his motorcycle and got on, placing his cane securely next him. He threw the helmet on his head and started the bike up before riding down the road and off to the hospital.

Regardless of what time he left he arrived late anyway, it didn't matter to him, if Cuddy hadn't fired him yet for all he's done she won't mind if he's only ten or so minutes late. He walked over to the elevator fully prepared to go up to his office when he heard the familiar sound of high heels behind him. They sounded angry and even angrier when the voice that accompanied them sounded out.

"House! You're late." She said and he turned around to see Lisa Cuddy walking over holding a folder in her hands.

"I'm sorry, Mommy, next time I'll call when I plan on being out past curfew." He sneered sarcastically as she shoved the folder in his hands.

"Give that to Wilson when he comes in and stop taking him out late, he's close to missing his first appointment."

She turned to walk away when House stopped her, he looked at the folder and then back up at Cuddy, confused. "Wait, Wilson's not in yet?" He asked with slight hesitation.

She turned around, now looking equally confused. "Isn't he with you?" She asked.

House raised his eyebrows and looked around mockingly. "Do you _see _him with me?"

"Well, no I thought he was already in his office or still outside – where is he?" She cut herself off realizing it was stupid to try and explain herself to House.

His threw his one arm out, unable to do so with the other because of his cane. "I don't know! I'm not his babysitter. Maybe he's just late."

She put on a doubtful face. "_You_ being late is nothing special, Wilson being late, especially this late is hell freezing over."

He knew that was true, if anything he'd be in work early rather then late. "I can give him a call." He said turning back around to the now open elevator. "We don't need you calling and giving him a heart attack with your screeching voice."

The doors closed on Cuddy and she rolled her eyes and moved back to the front desk to finish off some of the work she had down there.

House stepped out of the elevator on the appropriate floor and hobbled over to his office. He unlocked the door and walked in turning on the small light at his desk he picked up the phone and speed dialed Wilson's cell phone number. It immediately went to voice mail and he grunted. Putting it down he then tried to call his hotel room number. He let it ring about eight thousand times before slamming the phone down, he leaned back heavily on the office chair.

Sighing he wondered why he wouldn't let anyone get a hold of him. He was the type of person who made sure they were always reachable. House them picked up the phone again and call his office number, again nothing. Then he picked up his pager and tried to contact his friend that way. After a few minutes he realized he wouldn't be getting any response.

He popped a few pills in his mouth and stood up before walking over to the door and opening it. He had an idea. He passed by Wilson's office and looked in, the lights were out and with the little light in there he could see that no one was at home. He grunted and moved over to a waiting area that he knew had a window view of the parking lot. When he reached his destination he looked out the window and saw that Wilson's usual parking space was still empty. Her scanned the parking lot for another moment and still did not see the familiar car he drove.

In anger he hit his cane against the leg of one of the chairs and walked away. Before he left the waiting room he looked up on the wall and saw the clock. Now Wilson was a grand total of twenty five minutes late, if he was coming in now, he'd have a hell of a time getting past Cuddy without getting yelled at.

As if on cue he saw her exit the elevator that he was walking past and quickly catch up with him. "Could you get in touch with him?" She asked.

"Nope."

"Me neither..." She sighed with a hint of worry in her voice.

House came to a quick conclusion. "I'm going out." He said and she sharply turned her head to face him.

"Excuse me?" She asked.

"I'm going out." He repeated more clearly. "Call it my lunch break if that makes you feel any better." He said stepping into the nearest elevator.

"House, you can't just leave." She said not letting the doors shut between them.

He thought for a moment. "Hm… I have legs, in decent working order… I have a mode of transportation outside… there are no locked doors or giant rocks rolling down hallways or poisoned darts… Yup… I think I can."

"You know what I mean; you have clinic duty and what if a case comes in?"

"That's what I have ducklings for, speaking of them make them search the building for him, his car's not here but he could have taken the bus." He said and pushed her hand off the doors with his cane so they could close and let him down to the first floor. He waved at her as the doors closed and she stood there with crossed arms.

The elevator seemed to take forever as it slowly crept down past the floors. He wouldn't be surprised if it decided to break on him. But lucky for him, it didn't.

As he walked out the front doors of the hospital once again he looked at the clock and saw that Wilson was now thirty three minutes late. If he hadn't called by now or come in, he wasn't going to. House didn't want to admit it, and never would to anyone even if they asked, but he was worried. This wasn't like James, this wasn't like him at all.

* * *

James blinked heavily a few times and tried to fully open his eyes. He must have fallen asleep, he wasn't sure how, the position he was in was unbelievably uncomfortable and the cement he was sitting on wasn't exactly soft. But he had, he figured it was probably just from exhaustion. 

But something woke him up, looking around he saw light coming from the stairs and footsteps walking down them. He winced and curled up in a ball against the wall and shut his eyes. Maybe if they thought he was sleeping they'd go away. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't that lucky, there was a sharp pain and he cried out, he couldn't help himself.

He looked up to see Carthwall holding a metal bat in his hands, he must have bought it down with him. "Good morning, Doctor, good to see you're awake."

James looked over, he saw the other two down here as well, Worthen was standing far off with knife in his hands, flipping it over and over. To the left was the woman, Sarah, she was giggling and grinning, she wasn't holding anything threatening, but the way she smiled at him scared him more then anything.

"Have you thought about what you've done?" Carthwall asked kneeling down to James's level as if he was speaking to a child. "Have you thought about how many innocents you've killed? I know I don't have the power to rid the world or your lot, I know I can't. But at least I can get rid of you. You shouldn't even have the right to become a Doctor, look what you've done. God damned Yid."

James lowered his head and hid his face in his knees as tears threatened to pool out of his eyes once more. But his head was jerked up right away and he was roughly backhanded across the face. He heard Sarah give a squeal of delight and clap her hands behind both of the men.

"Don't try and hide your face, I wanna see you suffer, just as I had to watch my wife suffer." He threw James down and looked back to Worthen.

"Come here Danny, I'll let you have a go at him. I know you want to."

The more timid and innocent feeling of the men walked up and looked at James with large blue eyes. His hands continued to stroke the knife subconsciously.

At first he wasn't sure if anything would happen, he seemed to be just toying with him. But then, there was a light prickle of something on his jaw line and it slid down to his neck. His breath was shuddering and he struggled not to move to much in fear that the knife would slice his throat open.

Finally the sharp edged knife left his throat and moved down to his shirt. There was a quick movement and James winced thinking he had been cut, but opened his eyes and looked when he felt no pain. His shirt had been cut right down the middle where the buttons sat. He looked up at the man who seemed to be completely entranced by the task at hand as the knife came down to his chest once more.

He gasped as he felt a sharp pain on his chest, the pain seemed to curve all around in long cuts and patterns. He had no idea what was happening or what it would look like, all he knew is that they were painful, shallow, no doubt. But painful.

He felt warm blood drip down his chest and stomach and run down to the cold floor beneath him. After what seemed like hours of the stabbing pain it stopped and out of the corner of his eye he saw the bloodied knife being taken away from his stomach. Biting his bottom lip he dared to looked down at the damage that was done to his torso, he was shocked at what he saw. Blood was covering him, it was obvious something was made in a certain pattern, or something was made, but through the mass amounts of blood he couldn't tell what.

He fought back a cry and looked up at his captors, all three of them were grinning, then Worthen leaned down once more with the knife. Wilson tried to scurry away but Carthwall walked up to him and kicked him square in the ribs agitating his wounds and breaking at least one rib.

He felt him jab the knife into his upper arm and draw one more pattern, once again through all the blood there was no way of knowing what it was. He was left gasping on the floor curled up on himself and crying when Worthen back away smiling and laughing.

"Look at him, he's crying." He said and pointed to him.

"Of course he is." Carthwall said and walked up next to him, taking the knife out of his hands and whipping the blood off on a cloth. "I think we're done here… for now at least. Besides I think our breakfast is ready. Come on Daniel, Sarah." He said and walked out of the room.

"But I want to see him suffer more." Sarah said in a far off voice.

"I know, my dear, I know. But you have to eat something, you haven't eaten since we bought him here, and I'd like to know why." He walked over to her and put his arm around her shoulders. "I worry about you."

"Just not hungry." She said walking over to James and out of Carthwall's embrace, her long dark blue dress brushing against the dirty floor.

"You must be." He said and began walking toward the stairs, Worthen was already walking up them. "Come on now, I'll prepare you something special."

She seemed to ignore him as the men walked up, she moved closer to James, now they were all alone. She kneeled down next to him and ran her fingers over the angry cuts that littered his chest and stomach. "Such a pretty boy." She said with a smile. She lifted her hand and looked at the crimson red blood that now covered her fingers. "And such pretty blood."

James whimpered and shuddered away from her.

"Aw… don't be sad. You know you never should have done such things." She stroked his hair with her hand and smiled. "I know you can't help it, but you have to realize, you have to be punished."

"SARAH! Get up here!"

She gasped and looked up to the stairs. "Steven will be angry with me. I have to go now, good bye, pretty boy."

She smiled at him one last time before picking up her dress and jogging over to the stairs to meet up with her brother and brother in law.

James buried his face in his still openly bleeding chest and brought his knees up as far as he could without causing himself too much injury and cried until he had no more tears left. What had he gotten himself into? He had met these people, all three of them at the hospital, he remembered now, they were nice, all of them. They seemed normal. Now he was bleeding freely by dozens of cuts on his chest, stomach and arm.

They said it was time for breakfast, that meant it was morning. That meant people were showing up for work, noticing his absence. They would surly call the cops when he was no where to be found, they had to. They would call the police and they would find him, they would find him… soon. He hoped it was soon, he didn't know how much longer he could last down here.

* * *

House arrived at the hotel within fifteen minutes, it normally took about twenty from the hospital, but with a little speeding it was an easy fifteen. Lucky for him there were no cops in between him and the hotel. 

He parked his motorcycle in the parking lot and took off his helmet, as he got off the bike and grabbed his cane. The first order of business, look for his car, he spotted it right away. It sat in its normal position, seven spaces away from the back entrance to the hotel. Well if his car was here then he must be here as well, that's what he hoped not what his brain told him.

He walked over to the car and saw that all looked normal inside, nothing out of the ordinary. He walked away leaning heavily on his cane and went over to the rooms. He knew exactly which one was Wilson's, he even had a key for it, illegally made of course, but he had special contacts in the key duplicating department of the store.

He walked over to the door and shoved the key in. "Wilson I'm coming in, you better not be drunk and bare assed on the floor." Her pushed the door open only to come to the realization his friend was not in the room.

He walked in and saw the bed, it wasn't slept in, it was too early for the maid to come in. he walked over to the bathroom and pushed the door open, on the counter there was an array of hair products. He cocked his head and looked at them all, he would bet money Cameron didn't have as many hair products as Wilson did. No, scratch that, not as many as Cameron, Cuddy and Chase combined.

Speaking of hair products they were all in their respective places in the cases. Nothing was touched, it was all left as it would be if the maid came in. By now he knew that Wilson was aware of which maid came into his room, she was a young girl House met her once while she was cleaning his room. She knew where everything went by now.

But nothing was moved, no dirty towels from a shower, no hair drying still plugged in from its previous use. Nothing. Nothing was touched, nothing was moved, it was all perfectly in order. Wilson hadn't been here since… well since the previous morning when he woke up.

He reached in his pocket and picked up his phone, he quickly dialed the number to Cuddy's cell phone and waited for her to answer. Within two rings she had picked up, she sounded worried, that wasn't a good sign.

"Find him?" House got right to the point.

"He's not here, I take it he's not in his room either?"

He didn't bother to answer that. "You sure he's not there?"

"Positive"

He promptly hung up the phone, he had all the information he needed.

House may not have been a detective, but he was a diagnostician and that was good enough for him. He looked at his phone for a moment and sighed before dialing 9-1-1. He knew what he had to do now, even though he hated doing it.


	4. Questioning

**AN:** I'm back, no need to worry, I'm sorry I'm kinda delayed I got wrapped up in my original story, so sorry. But here I am with a new chapter to this oh so amazing story I have created in my twisted mind. Since we had a snow day, I had no school, and my show tonight was snowed out, thank God I wasn't about to drive on those roads anyway, I have much free time. Here we are with the chapter!

Questioning

House told the police to go to the Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital to meet him. He said that the people they would want to talk to would be there and it'd be easier. I didn't take him long to get back to the hospital, a few sharp turns, squeezing past the amber to red light just a little too closely. But he managed to get their before the police, paging Cuddy on the way to tell her to come to the front deck, the police were on their way.

He parked in the handicapped space with his motorcycle and limped out onto the ramp. He knew Cuddy would already be there waiting for him and he wasn't surprised to see that when he entered the hospital his ducklings were clinging at her side. To his dismay Cameron was the first one to spot him, he sighed as she began running over, her white coat flying out behind her. This got the attention of the rest of the group and they walked over as well.

"Oh God, House is Dr. Cuddy right? Is Dr. Wilson missing?" She asked walking along with him, worry lines etched in her face. "Have you called the police? What happened?"

He ignored her as she gave the array of questions and continued walking over to Cuddy, who stayed by the front desk.

"How long has he been missing?" Forman asked rationally, "It couldn't of been long I saw him yesterday."

"The cops are on their way." He said to Cuddy as she became in earshot. "They want to question us."

"Well I would hope so." She responded. "When are they going to be here?"

He raised an eyebrow and shrugged his shoulders. "How should I know? Am I there with them now? No, I'm not." He said a little bit more crude then he normally was, but no one paid any mind to it, due to the circumstances.

"When did you call them?" She said, trying a new form of questioning.

"Right before I left for here." He answered.

She nodded and put her hand together in front of her chest. "Okay, good, so that means they should be here any moment now."

"Scratch that." Chase said catching everybody's attention as he looked outside and making them silent. "They're here now." He said just as two people walked through the front doors talking like everything was perfectly fine, one was a uniformed officer, the other looked like a detective. They must not have thought much of it when House had said he just didn't show up for work.

The five Doctors unconsciously stood in a line in front of the desk, waiting for them to approach them. When they did, Cuddy took it among herself to say the first words.

"Good morning, officers, I'm Dr. Lisa Cuddy, the administrator here. I'm also a friend of Dr. Wilson's." She said very formally and she kept her composure well and shaking hands with the two. "This is Doct –"

"Dr. House." He filled in with a stern face. "These are the ducklings." He motioned to the three young Doctors who stood next to him.

Cuddy rolled her eyes and decided to fill in better. "Please, meet Doctors Eric Forman, Allison Cameron and Robert Chase."

"It's nice to meet you all." Said the one officer shaking hands with the three and attempting to do so with House but quickly realized he wasn't going to retaliate. "I'm Officer George Michaels and this is Detective Harry Sampson."

"You said it would be easier to do this here rather then at the station?" Detective Sampson asked with a raised eyebrow and taking out a note pad. "Why is that?"

House looked around at the four Doctors around him. "Because the six of us don't fit on my motorcycle, well we could have Chase ride in the side car, but he'd have to sit on Cameron's lap."

He nodded his head and sighed. "Is there any place we could talk to you all in private?"

Cuddy nodded her head. "Yes, we could go to my office, follow me, gentlemen."

She led the group to the elevator and up to the floor that her office was on. The walk there was long and silent, and a bit uncomfortable. The two men whispered small things to one another as they walked, things they seemed to want to keep from the rest of the group.

Finally they arrived at Cuddy's office, she opened the door with her key and let them all in. Locking it behind her she walked over to her desk and sat down, waiting for the men to say something.

"Well," the Detective began. "I think we should start with this thing, why is it you think your friend is missing?"

"He's not here." House answered from his seat on the other side of Cuddy's desk. "Next question."

"I'm afraid it's not that easy, Dr. House, we can't just file a report because someone didn't show up for work. We need more then that."

"His cars not here, he's not here, he's not at his… home, but his car is." He said pausing not sure if he should bring up the fact he lived in a hotel. "I called him, he didn't answer his office phone, his home phone, or his cell phone, and I paged him. Nothing."

He nodded his head and wrote down some information. "Okay so, who was the last to see him?"

House shook his head. "He stayed late last night, I left before him."

"I told him to leave." Cuddy said. "I called him late last night in his office, around the time I was about to leave myself. I think he stayed later though. He's dedicated to his work."

"So did any of you see him leave?" He asked looking between them.

"I did." Chase spoke out.

Cuddy furrowed her brow at looked at the young Intensive Care Doctor. "Why were you in work that late?"

"I wasn't, I mean I was, but I just came in to pick up a few things I forgot in the break room." He said.

"What did you forget?" The detective asked.

Chase looked at him and stared for a second before answering. "A book, a book of crosswords, I don't see how that's relevant."

"Did you talk?"

"Yes."

"About what?"

"He said hi, I said hi, he asked what I was doing here I told him, he said that I should head home and that if I was tired in the morning House would have my ass. I laughed and agreed, I said goodnight, he said goodnight and we went our separate ways." Chase said shrugging. "That's it."

"Did he seem… different?" Sampson asked.

"Tired." He said. "That's it, just really tired."

He wrote down a few more things on his notepad. "Alright. Can any of you think of any reasons why anyone would want to hurt Dr. Wilson?"

Cameron raised her hand to her mouth; it was just registering in her mind that something really horrible could have happened. "Oh you don't think…?" She asked them but trailed off, not daring to say it.

"We're never sure this soon, Doctor, but we always take precautions. Do you know anyone who would want to hurt him?"

House scoffed. "Lots."

"Could you name them?"

House shook his head and leaned forward. "Wilson is one of the most friendly and lovable and cuddly Doctors in this hospital. But he's also the head oncologist. Now, do you know what an oncologist is?" He asked treating the men like they were children. "It's a cancer Doctor, he tells dozens of people that they'll die, he has many enemies."

"That's not true, sure people get angry with him, they get frustrated and maybe hate him for a bit. But they know he's not the one who made him sick." Cuddy said shaking her head. "They're not enemies."

"I don't know; some people can hold some pretty big grudges." Forman said.

"Anyone specifically?" The Detective asked.

"It would be impossible to tell." Cuddy said. "The most I could do is give you a patient list, if you like."

"That would be helpful, thank you Doctor Cuddy." He said as he wrote some more notes down on the paper. "What about his personal life? Any enemies there? Girlfriends… ex-wives… former friends…?"

"What personal life?" House asked. "I'm his only friend…" He looked around to the group. "They tag along. He has three ex-wives, all of which don't hate him. I've met them all before and after the divorce, they all forgave him. Whenever he goes out he is out with me, I assure you, there's nothing in his personal life that's a secret from me."

"How can you be so sure?"

"He's very organized, and I read his planner." House said shifting himself in the seat.

"Mm-hm." He said and wrote a few more things down. "His ex-wives, what can you tell me about them?"

"It wasn't them." House said rolling his eyes. "Trust me, it wasn't them."

"Just give me their names, Doctor, and I'll be the judge of that."

House moaned and rattled off the names of James's ex-wives, knowing full well it would be a waste of time to talk to them about this. When he was finished he reached into his pocket subconsciously and took out a few pills. The two men eyed him.

"What are they for?" The police officer asked.

House looked down at his leg and then at his cane, as if saying 'do you really have to ask that'.

The police officer seemed to get the hint. "It's eleven seventeen in the morning, odd time to be taking medication."

"It's pain medication." Cuddy said standing up for House much like James would if he were here. "It's very unpredictable to tell when pain would act up, especially in Dr. House's case. Now please, continue on with the questioning for Wilson's case, not House's."

"My apologies." He said and leaned back, letting the detective take over again.

"Where does Dr. Wilson live? I'd like to search his home."

House and Cuddy exchanged glances. "He's currently living in a hotel." House fielded and quickly began explaining when he saw the looks on their faces. "He was living with me after he and his last wife split up, he had no where else to go, it was just until he could find a place. He finally decided after some time that he couldn't stay with me anymore and moved out."

"Why couldn't he find an apartment?" The detective asked. "Is there something about him that would turn landlords off or…?"

"No." House said. "Next question please."

"Could I have the address of the hotel?"

House glared all the while he wrote down the address on a piece of paper and handed it to the detective. "You can read this Doctor's handwriting." He said with a false smile.

"Do you have a picture of him? Something we could use to use in the report?"

House stood up and walked to the door. "Be back." He said walking out.

He detective looked to the remainder of the people in the room. "What was that about?"

Forman shrugged his shoulders. "He does that, but he'll be back."

"Hopefully." Chase said.

"While we're waiting, I know his relationship with Dr. House, but what about the rest of you?"

"I'm his boss." Cuddy said. "But I also consider myself one of his friends, and I think he considers me one of his. I was the one who gave him this job… oh how many years ago…? He was young, but a brilliant oncologist."

"Alright, what about you three?"

They shifted around uncomfortably. "Well," Cameron started not sure what to say. "I don't think we're great friends… but we're more then acquaintances. It's complicated."

"We've worked with Dr. Wilson on many occasions, he's an intellectual man and we, or I at least trust him on medical matters." Forman said looking to the others for some confirmation on his statement.

"A colleague then?"

"More then that." Chase answered running a hand through his blonde hair, thinking. "If he were just a colleague I'm sure we wouldn't be here and worried about him. I think I consider him a friend, maybe not as close as he is with House, but yeah, friends to some degree."

"Alright." He said nodding. "I know what you're talking about. Is there anything else you can think of? Anything that could help with the case?"

Cuddy was about to open her mouth when House came through the door holding a piece if paper in his hand. "Sorry," He said sarcastically and handed it over to the detective. "I didn't have any photo paper in my office."

The detective and the cop looked at the photo; it was a black and white picture of him with his head turned to the side. He wasn't looking at the camera but he wasn't looking away. It was a wonderful headshot of him.

"I remember who took these." Cameron smiled as she spotted the picture. "You got the pictures she took?"

House nodded. "Yeah, sent me copies of them a couple weeks after she left, thought I could have some use for them."

"Well she was right." The detective said. "Here's my card." He said and placed it on Cuddy's desk. "Call me if you think of anything else, we'll call you if we find anything."

"I'll e-mail you the list of patients." Cuddy said standing as they both stood.

"Thank you, Doctor, I promise we'll do all in our power to find your friend." With that the two men walked out of the office.

Cuddy sat back down, they had to find him. They would do all in their power to find him. It was really sinking in for them now, they filed a missing persons report on one of their friends, he really was officially missing now. There was a long silence for a few minutes after they left, until House spoke that is. "I don't like him." He voiced.

"Why?" Cuddy asked.

"He's nosy."

"You're nosey." She said rolling her eyes, not in the mood for a pointless argument right now.

"At least I'm tasteful." He responded and stood up to leave the office again.

* * *

There was no way James could possibly fall asleep again in this place. He wanted to, Lord knows he wanted to fall asleep, but he just couldn't. Maybe it was the obnoxious water dripping in the corner, or maybe it was the intense pain he felt all over his body. Either way he knew he couldn't be getting any sleep anytime soon.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and winced in the pain he was feeling, it came from just the slightest bit of movement. He gasped and tried to bite back a cry as tears once again threatened to pool down his face, he didn't want to cry. In face he hated doing it; he thought he had already cried enough when they were torturing him. But why now? He wasn't thinking about anything, he wasn't in any new pain, just the pain from the old wounds. He just felt like crying, like he had to get it all out.

James let out a long shuddering breath and shivered where he lay on the cold stone floor. His body was getting sore from laying on his hip, and shoulder, he wanted to move, but he couldn't imagine to where to make this more comfortable. He wished he could curl up in a ball and try to conserve some of his body heat but it would do him no good. So he laid there, just waiting for his captors to return and either kill him or do more damage to his body.

He looked down to his hands and noticed they were bound together by duct tape. He didn't even notice that, when did that happen. Looking down he saw his ankles were bound as well; this was making it even harder to move and get comfortable. At least he could be thankful for one thing though; there was no tape over his mouth. He knew he was getting sick, and soon his nose would be getting stuffed up. A fever would break out and his blood loss and infection would not be the only thing he had to worry about.

He was sure he had been down there for several more hours at least until the door above him opened up and the light from the upper portions of the house. He grimaced and looked away as the light hurt his eyes. He heard the footsteps of the people walking down and he stiffed a cry shutting his eyes again. "Oh no… please… House where the hell are you…?" He breathed.


	5. Bad Habit

**AN:** Oh gosh... I was sick for a while and I was just in no mood to write and on top of that school decided to bombard me with stuff I had to do. But I'm back. I have a feeling it won't take me too long to write this one either… I wrote a lot in school during class. Hey I'm a senior! In JROTC half the time I can just chill during class cause Sergeant's busy teaching the freshmen and sophomores! I have the time.

By the way I'm watching House ([hugs Wilson, poor baby. House called him an idiot) so I'm getting some good inspiration.

Bad Habit

House sat in his office at the hospital with his feet propped up on the desk. He was staring off to an endless bliss with a small rubber ball in his hand. He did that a lot lately, he really only left to meet up with his ducklings or pass by Wilson's office, hoping to see him in there at his desk. He bounced the ball down on the floor and caught it lazily in his hand.

It had been three days since he found out his friend was missing, or to be more specific almost seventy eight hours exactly. After the first day past by the detective came to House and the rest of the team, he told them that after the first day the chances of him being found alive were slim. Cameron seemed to think this meant he was already dead, she just left and walked further into the hospital, House hasn't seen her since, but he didn't really care. Chase just stared, taking it all in, but he seemed to not give up hope that easily, House actually earned the tiniest of respect for him, but just a little. Forman nodded, he was smart, he already knew this, but hearing it was a different matter. Cuddy seemed to take the same reaction as House did, lock herself in her office, but she probably busied herself with work.

Now it's been three days and the chances were just getting slimmer. He looked up at the clock, almost lunch time, and almost time to take the long route and pass by Wilson's office. Then he would leave, he always said he was going out to lunch but he really went to the hotel to check for his friend. He never saw anything, he never found anything. Just an empty room as always.

The clock hit eleven thirty and House got up and walked out of his office, locking the door behind him. As usual he went the long way and passed by Wilson's office, as always seeing the light off inside and the untouched papers sitting on the desk. Like always he didn't magically appear at his desk.

He managed to walk right by the office not lingering too long to make himself stand out among the many people walking in the hall. He moved to the elevator and went down to the ground floor passing by the front office on his way. The lady that sat there gave him a sad look, House ignored it, since she was in earshot during a good portion of their conversations she knew the entire situation. Not that the rest of the hospital was naïve to it by now, everyone knew.

But he managed to ignore everything everyone was saying, everything everyone was thinking and doing. All he had to do was listen to his own mind, do what he wanted to do, he was good at that.

He got on his motorcycle and sped down the road toward the hotel. He wasn't stupid, he knew doing this several times a day wasn't healthy, he knew it was a bad habit but he had to do it. He promised himself he would stop when they found Wilson's dead body, then it was official. Until then there was always that hope he was alive somewhere.

He arrived at the hotel in time and parked his motorcycle next to Wilson's car which still sat there like it had when he got out, but never made it to his room. By now anything that could have been here was long gone, it had rained just the other night. Any missed finger prints, blood, any of it was long gone. Not only that but the morning dew washed away a lot of the prints or blood that could have been found, by their luck it was heavy that morning.

He walked slowly up to the room. Staring at the ground as if some obvious missed clue would jump out at him and tell him exactly where Wilson was. But alas as he reached the room he found nothing. House reached into his pocket and pulled out the hotel room key that he made of copy of several weeks ago. He stared at it for a moment remembering that day before sliding it into the key hole and turning it.

He felt the door unlock and turned the knob to enter the sure to be empty room. He didn't even have to take a step in before he saw it. His friend was on his back halfway on the bed, his legs were hanging off and his left arm was a bit as well.

House wanted nothing more then to run to him and hug him, check him make sure he was alive. Screw traditional, cold and anti-emotions House, this was a special situation. But he couldn't help but see all the bruises first, he was frozen in place. James's shirt was torn open and there were various colors of bruises and cuts covering it, although it was hard to see that through all the blood that matted his chest. His face was showing a small shadow of a beard since he hadn't shaved in three days and his it was swollen from bruises, there was a split lip and a large gash on his head.

He looked so thin, maybe it was just because of the situation but he had defiantly lost at least some weight. He must not have eating at all in the time he was missing. Getting over his initial shock House dropped his cane in the doorway and ran over to him as fast as his bum leg could carry him.

He dropped down to his side and began inspecting him for signs that he was alive. He grabbed his limp wrist and actually prayed as he waited for that beat. The wait seemed to take hours but finally he found it. A faint almost non-existent heartbeat. House thanked whatever power was at work here and reached into his pocket to pull out his phone.

He dialed a few quick numbers in and called. The phone was quickly picked up by a woman who only got a couple words out before House interrupted her.

"I need an ambulance." He didn't even wait for a response to that, he gave the address of the hotel to the lady, told them who it was and then hung up. Not wanting to talk to her any more then he had to, it wouldn't do any good, besides he had work to do and he needed to use both hands for this.

"C'mon Wilson, don't die on me, not yet." He said as he used the sheets from the bed to bind some of the still bleeding cuts. He applied pressure to the head wound and looked at the rest of his body. His shoulder looked to be at an odd angle, probably dislocated. He was defiantly dehydrated and there was the possibility of infection on his various wounds.

As House looked over his friend he noticed the small bit of movement in his eyes. "Wilson?" He asked moving up to his face.

"Hou…. House…" He trailed off in less then a whisper but he had heard him.

"Yeah, I'm here, man, you're gonna be okay." He said gripping the hand of his friend,

"Gonna kill me…"

"No, no one's gonna kill you, you're okay you're safe, you're going to the hospital."

James's eyes wandered in a daze, he probably couldn't even tell where he was. But then his eyes settled on House's blue eyes and remained there. "It… Greg... it… hur-rts…" He said with tears forming in his eyes.

"I know it does." He said with reluctant tears forming in his own. He watched as the brown eyes of his friend closed and his head moved to the side slightly. "No, Jimmy, no stay awake for me please, you have to stay awake." He placed his hand on the side of his face as he began to hear sirens coming down the road.

His eyes opened again but didn't focus on anything in front of him; they just rolled around useless and unfocused.

"Just stay awake…" House said as he heard the ambulance sirens in the parking lot.

Seconds later paramedics were coming in with a stretcher. Reluctantly House let go of his hand and backed up to stand out of the way to let the men work. Normally he would be yelling at them that they were doing something wrong, or insisting he was a doctor that he could do it, but he found he was still in to much a state of shock to really do anything, he knew better then to interfere.

As they carried him out of the room on the stretcher House followed picking up his cane as he went. The ambulance waited for them outside, there was no question about it. House walked over to the back prepared to ride with them.

"Sir, you can't ride, we have too much we have to do, I'm sorry." The paramedic said in much haste as he adjusted the oxygen mask on James's face as they began pushing him in the back.

"I'm his Doctor, I'm riding."

The paramedic seemed to think for a split second and then he looked at the man in the stretcher and then back at House, a look of realization passed across his face. "Oh God, yeah, yeah ride." He said now remembering that he knew these two because they were both Doctors at the hospital, he had seen them there on occasion.

House got in the back of the ambulance just as they were prepared to go and sat there as they sped off to the hospital. On the way House was able to stabilize his friend further and make sure that weak heartbeat didn't give up.

"His temperature is spiking." The paramedic said with a worried hint in his voice.

House looked up from Wilson and furrowed his brow. He glanced at the temperature reading and it read 101.1 and still steadily rising. "What the hell…" He murmured to him self and looked down again.

What could cause a sudden rise in temperature? Malignant Hyperthermia, that caused rapid rise in body temperature, but that was an inherited disease, he knew Wilson's medical history like the back of his hand. Besides that wasn't a probable reason for this rise in temperature now. There was aspirin poisoning. But unless those people drugged him full of aspirin before he… before he was free of them, there was no way that could be it. There was also possible infection. But why would it spike like this? That should be a steady rise.

All of the diseases that ran though his mind didn't make any sense. Sure he could have them, but none of them were linked to anything he had been through and showed no other symptoms.

House closed his eyes and allowed the paramedic to do his job while he mentally thought over everything. Okay, so spike in fever, dehydration which was probably only making it worse, so far that was all he could see until they got him to the hospital and began looking him over more intensely.

House and the two paramedics fought to keep his heart beating and his condition stable as they pulled into the hospital parking lot. His fever was still rising but not as rapidly, it seemed to be hovering around the 102 area. House felt the ambulance come to a stop and the two doors open wide to allow the stretcher out. He followed the paramedics as they bought in the stretcher. They were quickly met by a couple other doctors, who exchanged a few words with the paramedics before carrying Wilson off.

House tried to follow them but was stopped by Cuddy who had been waiting for them. "House, no, you're going to let them do their job and take care of him!" She yelled.

"What no, I'm not just going to sit and wait."

"You're going to have to." She said grabbing his cane in one swift motion to prevent him from going anywhere. "You're too involved with the patient you could make irrational decisions."

"'The patient'?" House asked angrily. "Is that all he is to you? 'The patient'?"

She sighed and lowered her head. "House… you know that's not how I meant it."

"But that's how you said it." He said and began limping down the hallways painfully since Cuddy was still in possession of his cane.

Grunting she followed him, stomping her heels on the white tiled floor. It didn't take her much effort to get ahead of him and throw her hand out on his chest, stopping him. "You are going to stay in the waiting room while they all take care of him. I promise that after they stabilize him and get him settled you can be his doctor, but for now it's a no."

"I already stabilized him."

"Yeah, in an ambulance, unfortunately that's not good enough." She said and threw the cane back in his arms. "By now they already took him into the emergency room, they're already looking him over and taking x-rays and performing tests. If you even try going in now you'd be doing more harm then good. So please, for Wilson's sake, stay here and just wait. Be a good friend and be there for him afterward." She said lowering and softening her voice considerably from when she started.

House glared at her but said nothing. He took his cane in his hand and limped down the hallway in obvious pain but not taking any of his pills, he had too many things on his mind to be taking pills now.

He didn't stay in the waiting room, why would he do that when he had a perfectly good office to go to? But he didn't go to his office either, he used his own key and opened the door to James's office and stepped in. It seemed so empty, so unused, bare… He didn't like it like this; he wanted his wonder boy oncologist back. The one who balanced out his rash, immature, rude and cold attitude. The one who's been his longest and only real friend.

He saw the damage of what happened to him over the past three days, and he would find out exactly what happened. He wanted to know exactly what the person or persons did to his friend so he could make sure they got what was coming to them.


	6. Friend or a Doctor

AN: Whoa! I am back, four day weekend ya know, thank God for Easter. And I got lots of candy do I'm pretty hyper, AND my mom gave me the original Star Wars trilogy on DVD now I have it on DVD and VHS! (my dad had the old school VHS from the 70's/80's) But now I'm at with a new chapter, and I'm going to the mall today I am very happy. I'll see you guys later, enjoy the chapter!

Be a Friend or Doctor

He was cold all over; the cuts that littered his skin itched and burned as they continued to go on untreated. He couldn't help but shiver and wriggle in vain against his bonds. He knew he was getting sick, his throat hurt, his nose was getting stuffed up, and he found himself retching every now and then. But the retching could have been from a number of things. He could hardly breathe and the fact that he was sobbing slightly wasn't helping.

He knew the man was standing over him, grinning, smiling happily at what he had done to him. Carthwall had given him another good beating because he "disserved it". James had long since given up trying to make them stop, pleading with them to let him go, he just laid there on the cold and hard floor waiting for death to take him away. He hated himself for giving up so easily, but what else could he do? He was trapped here and by the degree of his hunger and dehydration it had to of been at least two days. Two long days, he had hoped that by now someone would have been looking for him. But it seemed like no one would ever come.

There was another swift kick to his already broken ribs which made James cry out in pain. He curled up in on himself more and buried his head in his knees.

"Stupid Heeb," he said and nudged James with the tip of his heavy boot. "Not too surprised no ones come after you yet ya know." He taunted. "Imagine, people coming after to help a Jew… ridiculous. They're probably glad to be rid of you!" He yelled and gave a swift kick to the gut.

James shook his head in a vain attempt at a protest.

"They are and you know it! Did more harm then good…" He muttered as he noticed James's body begin to go limp. "Oh hell no, you're not conkin' out on me just yet."

Carthwall walked over to the tap that sat on the far wall and turned the nozzle. There was the sound of rushing water for a few seconds before the flow stopped and the captor walked back to his captive. "Wakey, wakey, Doctor." He spat and poured the ice water all over James.

James gasped in the shock and shook tremendously, his eyes shot open but all he could see was black. He really wasn't passing out, he was faking it, hoping that maybe he would see that he was going unconscious and he would leave him alone. For a little while at least, they had done it before when he lost consciousness, maybe they would do it again. Unfortunately he wasn't so lucky.

He sputtered and coughed as some of the icy water made its way into his lungs. He looked up at Carthwall who was grinning slyly at him. "Cold?" He asked in a dangerous voice. "Well then, why don't we warm you up?"

With that he took out a box of matches and lit one. He moved over to the doctor and held it under his bruised ribs. It didn't take long for the water to evaporate under the flames and his skin start to heat up and burn.

"AAHH!" James cried out weakly.

"You think this is hot? Imagine how hot it's gonna be when you burn in hell, Yid."

"James?"

"Burn in hell!"

"James?"

"Hahahaha!"

"James!"

Wilsons's eyes shot open, or as well as they could, one seemed not to want to open to wide. He looked around to survey his surroundings through his blurred and dazed vision. He quickly realized he was no longer in the basement but in a soft white bed in a white room. Everything looked sterile. He felt no pain, nothing, he was all numb. It then dawned upon him that his surroundings were very familiar too him, but he just couldn't place it.

"Wilson? Snap out of it."

He turned his head making a dull aching pain shoot through it he winced and squinted his eyes at the man sitting next to his bed. He knew that gruff voice… it was… it was… House? House was here? Wait who was House? His friend, he knew that, of course. Gregory House, friend for – how many years had they been friends? Strange, James was always the one who knew the dates and years.

Hold up, if House was here that meant he wasn't in the basement. Just like he suspected, but they weren't at his hotel room, or House's apartment. Where were they, it almost looked like they were in a hospital. Well that made sense now didn't it? A hospital of course, the place where sick or injured people go to be taken care of by… who took care of them? Doctors, he knew that. Of course he knew that he was a Doctor himself. Doctor James Wilson, oncologist. Head Oncologist in fact, now it was all coming back, good.

"Wilson!?"

He snapped out of his daze and stared confusingly at his older friend. "House…" He murmured in a voice that sounded nothing like his own, actually he wasn't quite sure if what came out of his mouth sounded like the word 'House' at all.

"Yup, it's me…" House said in a soft voice that didn't sound like his own voice any more then James's did. "How are you feeling?"

"I – uh… I don't know… sick." He mumbled.

"Yeah, that's expected." He said as he reached over and got some water for James's dry throat. He could tell he needed it.

"What… what happened?" James asked desperately looking up at him when he finished drinking.

House took a deep breath, unsure if he should tell James what was really going on or if he should lie about it and wait until he was stronger. Chances were he probably wouldn't remember this conversation too clearly no matter what. "You, you were found in your hotel room early this afternoon. You went into surgery right away and now you should be resting."

James raised an eyebrow the best he through the white bandage that covered the gash on his head. "That's it? Who found me?" He slurred. "I mean… who would be snooping around my room?"

House bit his bottom lip and leaned back in his chair, James knew. He knew it was House who found him, why else would he be asking? He also knew that House was the only one with a spare key so unless the police were doing a very late investigation on the place the only logical explanation would be House. "Fine, I'll admit. The little pixies and fairies who sprinkle their magic dust on your hair products to make them magical found you."

James closed his eyes and smiled slightly. "I knew those little guys would come in handy." He didn't even bring himself to ask anymore questions of why House was the one to find him, but he was glad he was. It just proved to him that their friendship did mean something to Greg.

House grinned and nodded his head. "At least your sense of humor is still in tact."

"Seems to be the only thing that is." He said looking at the various bandages and bruises that covered his skin.

"Not true." House stated as Wilson opened his eyes. "Wilson Junior is still safe and sound."

James made a face, House wasn't sure if he was scolding him or wincing in pain. Maybe it was a mixture of both. He couldn't help but think of how he had woken his friend up and how much he was trying to ignore it. He was crying in his sleep, whimpering and moaning in pain and the completely oblivious look he had when he did wake up. House could see he was making the pain he felt, mentally and physically, but unfortunately his eyes betrayed him. House could always tell what was going on in his mind using those emotional brown eyes; it was why James never won at poker.

He knew that eventually all that he had been through would catch up with him, but there was no telling when. Knowing James he would keep it bottled up and convince everyone he was fine until one day he would break down and House would be there to pick up the pieces. It was what friends were for, right? House may have seemed like a… well an ass but he did have a heart even if it was buried under sarcasm and hate.

"What's the matter?" James asked, now being the one to snap someone else out of a daze.

"Fine, I'm fine." House said and rubbed his head with his hand.

"You're a terrible liar."

"And you're a terrible driver."

"Really, what is it?"

House looked stunned and just stared at Wilson for several seconds. "What's wrong? Are you an idiot? What do you think? The past three days I've been a God damned mess all because of you. I've been worried sick over you, and now that you're here… I just can't believe it." Amazing how House, the tough one, would be the one to snap first and after so little prodding.

James cleared his throat and tried to make his voice sound a bit more like his own. "I… I… I'm sorry?" He asked not quite sure of what to say.

"Don't say you're sorry!" House cried and stood up from his seat cane in hand as he began limping back and forth across the floor. "It's not your fault you were kidnapped! You're not the one who decided it was a great idea to be a nice guy and get abducted in the parking lot!"

"How do you know it was because I was being a nice guy?"

"Because that's just who you are! You're too nice! You're too friendly! Too helpful, it's insane! And I don't know why I can stand you."

"Because I'm the only one who can put up with you and your crap." James replied quickly and calmly, but no sooner did he begin to cough, he covered his mouth politely as House watched curiously.

"Why are you coughing?" He asked and walked over to sit back down.

He shook his head as he caught his breath after the coughs left his body. "I don't know, I just am."

"You shouldn't be coughing."

James lifted his one good arm a few inches as he shrugged his shoulders ever so slightly around the injuries. "Where are you taking this? It was just a cough it was nothing."

"Yeah, right," House rolled his eyes and stared intensely at the other doctor.

"What aren't you telling me?" James asked quietly, still breathing slightly hard from the coughing.

House looked away toward the closed blinds on the window and thought.

"C'mon, House… what is it?"

He looked back and with a furrowed brow he began speaking just like he would describing any other patient to his ducklings. "Spiked fever incredibly quickly in the ambulance after it was perfectly normal five minutes prior. Retching in the ambulance as well, afterward we managed to bring the fever down although it is still a little to high for comfort. Now coughing, all of which are symptoms of something."

"Did you check for infection?" James asked.

"Of course, and you have one, a couple actually but they're minor and should be gone within a couple days. They do not explain the degree of your symptoms."

"Maybe I'm just sick with a cold, in fact I know I have a cold. I can tell."

"Does that explain the retching? You would make a terrible duckling." House said as he walked around the bed. "You're sick, and I don't know what it is, therefore I have deemed myself your doctor."

"Oh you're kidding, I'm one of your cases?" James asked pushing himself back further against the pillow to get more comfortable. "Well I don't know if I like that, I've seen how you decide what's wrong with your patients, random tests and guesses. I've been behind the scenes I don't think I like being up front."

"Tough." House said simply and saw that the glass of water next to the bed was almost empty. "You need more?"

"Pardon?"

"Water, hydrogen and oxygen, ya know that stuff that makes up most of your body? Yeah that, do you need more?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm okay. This side of you is weird, do you know that?"

"Is it that bad I'm concerned for my fellow man?"

"It's not bad it's just… weird."

"You're weird."

James closed his eyes and sighed as he shook his head once again at his immature behavior. He coughed once more but didn't bother to cover his mouth this time, he took some gasping breaths afterword and rested a bit before speaking again. "Have you checked my ribs? Any of them puncture a lung? I know they broke."

"Lucky for you, no. Two broken ribs, three cracked ones. A couple lose teeth, minor burns, your left eye, I'm sure you can tell that won't be opening completely for a few days. Your chest and stomach had a hell of a beating." He decided to leave out the part where there were words carved into the chest and arms of James, he didn't even know if he could say it, saying only what he did was hard enough.

House had seen them when they were bandaging him up, he left the waiting room to go and see. He had too and they were only cleaning his wounds and bandaging them so the other doctors allowing him in, but not to help, just to watch. Across his chest read the word 'failure' but the one on his arm was the one he found to be slightly more disturbing. The Star of David, which made House even angrier at the thought there were some anti-Semitist freaks going after his only friend. There was another he had missed, they already covered it before he came in, but apparently the other arm said 'Yid' a common Jewish slur which made House even angrier.

He doubted James knew that he knew this. He didn't think he would want him knowing. The doctors who treated him said there was be scaring of the words, but there were always way to get rid of it and the scars wouldn't be that terrible. But then again, any scars that looked like that would be terrible. He knew he would have to change his dressing at one time, and that James would probably be awake for it. He dreaded that moment.

"What else?" James asked. "He cut me, how bad are they?"

"Some scaring, not too deep, you'll live." He answered simply.

James nodded and winced slightly from the pain. "How long am I gonna be in here for?"

"You're just full of fun filled questions, huh?"

"House."

"About a week, as of right now, for your ribs. Afterward you will be released into my care."

His raised his head slightly to see if he heard right. "Excuse me? I have a home, thanks."

"No, you have a hotel room, your stuff is already being packed up and moved into my place via ducklings." House smiled leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on the bed.

James sighed. "I'm not gonna win this am I?"

"Nope. And Cuddy has ordered that you will not return to work for four full weeks, give or take due to your ribs once again."

James moaned out loud from either pain or frustration, House couldn't tell, but he assumed it was probably the latter. "Hey you get four weeks of vacation with pay." House said. "C'mon, that's gold."

"Right… Gold…" James gasped for breath as another cough came bursting through his body.

House narrowed his eyes and glanced up at James's temperature reading, it was still a bit high and House didn't like it. Something here was wrong and it wasn't just a cold. He looked back down just in time to notice James shiver slightly.

"Are you cold?"

"A little."

"Add that to symptoms."

"House…"

"So, you're coughing, a fever, retching and chills."

"House…"

"You're symptoms are too severe to be rhino virus…"

"House!" James cried out in his hoarse and dry voice "Just stop, don't be a doctor now, be a doctor later. Just be a friend now, dammit, you're such an ass!"

"Angry Wilson is fun Wilson."

He shook his head, allowing a small smile to cover his face, he was glad to be back. He didn't know how much longer he could have lasted down there. But there was one pending question, why he was there in his hotel room. He certainly didn't run away, anyone who found him wouldn't just leave him there… why did they let him go?


	7. Realization

**AN**: Okay so, I'm a little bit pissed, I wrote the entire chapter and then lost it. I was mad. But after some temper flaring at the computer, tv, dog (my poor doggy I had to apologize to her and giver her many hugs and kisses), I calmed down enough to start again. Even if my typing was still too fast and pissed off to really start therefore resulting in many typos.

Revelation

House stared at James lie in the bed; the two hadn't talked for some time and for good reason. Cuddy had come in and told them that Detective Sampson and Officer Michaels would be arriving soon to question James on the "incident". She went down to meet them and lead the two to his room. Quite frankly House was mad that they were coming, James hadn't even been home and safe for a full twenty four hours and already they wanted to bombard him with questions that he knew he wasn't ready to answer.

He couldn't understand why Cuddy would even let them in the building, they didn't do anything. They said he was dead and there was no point looking for him, okay so maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration, but that's pretty much what they meant. His friend was staring into the eyes of death less then twenty four hours ago and already they wanted to talk to him. Not only that, but he was obviously sick with something and was only getting worse as time went on. House hated cops more then anything else on the earth, well maybe not as much as he hated really stupid people. Well, at least they waited until he was out of surgery to come, unless maybe they ran into traffic.

"Hey House." James said weakly and nodded his head toward the doors, down the hall they could see Cuddy and behind her two tall men.

"Oh hell…" House moaned and leaned back in his chair. "I hate cops."

"I know."

"Why are they even here?"

"I don't know."

"They think they did a good job when they didn't even come close to finding you."

"Damn them."

"Why doesn't Cuddy just shoo them away?"

"I couldn't tell you."

"She has that authority, lie and say you're in surgery."

"She could."

"I hate cops."

"I know."

The door opened and Cuddy walked in with the two men of law enforcement. "Dr. Wilson this is Detective Sampson and Officer Michaels. Detective, Officer, this is Doctor James Wilson, the man you were supposed to save." She said with a glare and left the room before any more words could be said.

"She's quite a firecracker, huh?" House said from his seat.

James smirked from the bed.

"Hello, Doctor," Sampson said ignoring House and walking right to the opposite side of the bed to sit down and begin talking to James. "Good to see you're up; we'd like to ask you a few questions. You don't have to answer then if you don't want to, but just know you'd be helping this case greatly if you did. Dr. House if you could – "

"I'm not leaving." House said firmly.

"I do believe that's Dr. Wilson's decision." He said.

"House stays." James said hoarsely.

The detective nodded. "Very well, are you ready to begin?"

"Shoot." He said shrugging.

"What's the last thing you remember before being abducted?" The detective asked getting his pen ready to write things down on his little notepad.

"I got my briefcase, got out of my car and started walking to my room, a car pulled up beside me. I didn't think much of it I just kept walking until they stopped and one man got out. He saw he needed direction to his sister's house… or something… I didn't trust them, but it didn't take them long to convince me, they pulled out a map with a highlighted route on it and showed me, I looked at it and before I knew it they hit me on the head and I went down… I guess… I don't remember too much of that." He said through deep breaths, he hadn't noticed yet but everyone else seemed to, he was having some trouble breathing.

"Okay, that's fine; I think that's all we really need on that matter, now you said you blacked out? Do you remember where you woke up? What the place looked like?" He asked and looked back up from his notepad.

"How could I forget? It was a dark basement, cold; there was nothing down there except for a couple tools and a faucet in the far corner that kept dripping. Drove me crazy. I couldn't tell you anything more specific then that, if I was ever conscious while out of the basement, I don't remember."

"That's good, that's good… Uh, let's see, Your captor, what did they look like. Was their more then one? Male or female? Anything?"

House scoffed but James managed to ignore it and continue. "Three of them, I can even tell you their names. Samuel Carthwall, he seemed to be the ringleader, Daniel Worthen, he sounded a bit slow and Sarah Carthwall, she was just creepy."

The detective exchanged a look with the police officer. "They told you their names? Did you know any of them prior to the incident?"

He scoffed again. "Incident…" He sighed and glared at the men.

"I knew them all, not personally, but I knew them. I treated Samuel Carthwall's wife for cancer, she died about a month ago. There was nothing I could do, the cancer cells were too widespread and too advanced, it was too late." James explained. "I remember them all coming to visit her, sometimes all at once, sometimes at different times."

"It happens, you can't save everyone."

"Sure you can." House said in monotone. "It just depends on the circumstances."

The detective wrote down the names and the looked back up. "What about the last thing you remember, before waking up in your room that is."

James thought for a moment and then coughed before words came out of his mouth. "I don't know… uh… that's all real blurry, I – I saw them coming down the stairs… all three of them. Samuel Carthwall walked up to me and he hit me on the head… I didn't get knocked out those it just sort of jumbled things. Then his sister Sarah walked up to me… she said something and then did something… I have no idea what… then everything went black. I really don't remember any of it." He said taking a deep breath.

"Are you okay, Doctor?" The Officer asked noticing his rapid and unsteady breathing.

"I'm fine." James said.

"Bull." House said and got up to check his vitals on the monitor. "Look at this, your fever is one hundred and three, it shot up a full three degrees, I'm fine my ass." He said and pushed the call button for the nurse. "If you gentlemen don't mind leaving now, that wasn't a request, I have to care for my patient." He said and smacked the two men on the back of their knees with his cane. "Shoo."

"We'll be back another time, Dr. Wilson, to finish this. I hope you're feeling better by then." The detective said and then walked out of the room.

"I'll look into those names." Officer Michaels said before leaving. "I'm sure I've heard them before… or at least one of them."

"Then go!" House cried out. "It's your job go do it!"

"Yes," he said and nodded his head. "Thank you for your time."

When the police officer left James turned his head to House and sighed. "Did you have to be so rude? They're just trying to do their jobs."

"I hate cops."

"You've mentioned that."

The young nurse walked in and looked around, not exactly sure why she was called to the room. "Can I help you?" She asked timidly to the two doctors, she knew them both, one had a reputation of being kind the other a total bastard, she wasn't quite sure what would happen.

"Yeah, lower his fever, I gotta go." House said and headed toward the door.

"Where are you going?"

"Elsewhere." He answered simply and shut the door behind him.

"Ignore him." James said to the nurse as she began the procedure in lowering his temperature. "He's just unpleasant."

She giggled and continued to work, she was glad she was with the nice one.

House walked down the hallway leaning heavily on his cane, he hadn't taken any of his pills in quite a few hours and his leg was beginning to act up. But he didn't care about that right now, all he had to do was get to his office and talk to his ducklings who he conned into figuring out what was wrong with Wilson.

"What do we have?" House asked as he walked into his office to find the three ducklings staring at the white board.

"How's Doctor Wilson?" Cameron asked standing up as soon as she noticed House enter.

"If you must know he has a new and exciting symptom, shallow and quick breathing." House said sarcastically. "But according to him he's doing just fine, so apparently irregular breathing is completely normal to him."

"Oh," she said sitting down, seeing that House was not in a good mood right now. "Well he has a new symptom? That can only help right? I mean the more symptoms he gets the more we can narrow it down."

"Or the quicker he dies." He shot back. "What do we have?"

"Okay, so new symptom, irregular breathing…" Chase mumbled trying to figure it into the equation of symptoms.

"Thank you Captain Obvious." House said rolling his eyes.

"This makes irregular breathing, dry coughs, fever, chills, headache… it could be anything House. But I tell ya, it sounds a lot like the flu." Forman said pacing back and forth.

"It's not the flu."

"How do you know?" He asked.

"I just do, now what else."

Cameron sighed. "Why do we always assume its something complex and deep, it could just be a cold. He was in a damp and cold basement for several days, that'll make anybody a little sick. Why are we always thinking it's something more then what it is?" She asked.

"Because it always is, I'm not here to answer your petty questions. Give me a disease."

"Leukemia?" Chase guessed.

"Are you kidding? Leukemia has no early symptoms and last time I checked he is having early symptoms. Don't be an idiot, next?" House said harshly glaring at everyone.

"What about pneumonia?" Cameron said.

"Is that a guess or a diagnosis?"

"A guess, House, we don't have enough symptoms to diagnose him yet." She argued, getting frustrated with his attitude.

Chase sat in the chair tapping his pencil on the book of crosswords that sat closed on his lap. Diseases were sunning through his head, he wanted to find out what was wrong but he just couldn't think of anything that would make sense. The young Australian sighed and stood up from his chair, throwing his book and the pencil onto a nearby table.

"And where are you going?" House asked as Chase reached the door.

"I just need to take a walk." He said and walked out with nothing more to be said.

There was a long silence as they all stared at the door that Chase had exited from, that is until House looked around and scrunched up his face. "That was weird." He said.

Chase walked down the hall looking in through the many windows that held the sick or injured patients. All of them were healing or at least comfortable right now, but their fellow doctor in one room wasn't. He was sick and no one knew why, it was obviously something was wrong, but his symptoms weren't adding up. They pointed to the flu, and House seemed so sure that wasn't it.

He turned a corner and looked in through the windows at the patients; it was visiting hour so most of them had family and friends in the room with them, either that or they were talking on the phone to their loved ones. But when he past one room he felt compelled to stop and look inside and he was glad he did. By chance this was Doctor Wilson's room, he was in his bed, awake staring at the ceiling in boredom.

Chase knew they had never been booming friends, but he felted obligated to stop in and at least say his to his co-worker. He turned around and walked through the door and into the room. "Um… hey." He said getting the oncologists attention, he jumped a little, he seemed startled. But that was expected, after what he went though.

James looked at him and smiled slightly through the bruises. "Chase, what brings you here?"

"Just passing by and I thought you could use some company." He said and walked in another couple of feet.

"Well sit down." James said motioning with his good arm to the empty seat. "How have you guys been coming along with my diagnosis?" He asked.

"You're not supposed to know about that."

"Please, don't take me for a fool." James smirked. 'I know you guys have been working on it, House would never just drop it like I asked."

Chase moaned. "But there is something wrong here, you're a doctor, you should see that you're not right, don't you feel anything? Anything aside from the chills, or the fever, or the cough… anything?"

James shrugged and coughed into his hand, allowing Chase to get him a glass of water. "I don't know what's wrong with me, but its just getting harder and harder to breathe, I guess I'm getting weaker, too but I don't know if that's just from my condition or the illness." He said. "Wish I could be more help."

"We could give it a day or so, let another symptom come up and then we'll be able to pinpoint it."

"You guys'll get it, just don't let House experiment on me, I know how he treats patients with those random testing that's only fifty, fifty."

Chase nodded and smiled. "I won't don't worry."

James moved in his bed and winced in pain.

"Are you okay?" Chase asked, immediately worried. "Do you need me to boost up your pain meds or maybe call a nurse?"

"No, it's just my bandages are chaffing a bit, the nurse should be in soon to change them." He explained.

"Oh I'll change them for you," Chase said standing and walking across the room to grab the bandages and the disinfectant along with a few other things. "It's the least I can do, really."

"That'd be great, actually." James said sitting up ever so slightly to give Chase more room to work. "Don't let House get to you, you're a great doctor."

"Thanks." He said as he unwrapped the bandage on his arm first, he saw the horrible cuts on his arm and inwardly winced at them, he had heard what happened to him, but seeing it for himself was a different matter entirely. He began cleaning the wounds trying not to notice as James's winced every now and then at the shots of pain that jolted from the angry cuts.

"How's it look?" He asked a minute later as Chase finished cleaning off the dried blood.

"Not bad, a little infected, but nothing serious…" He trailed off upon seeing some odd bruising around his forearm. It was discolored and looked like the type of bruise one got when they were getting blood taken or gotten a needle that was put in wrong by an inexperienced doctor. It didn't match the rest of the bruises.

"What the hell…" Chase murmured as he looked closer at the bruises.

"What is it?"

"I think I just found the break in this case." He said and placed his arm down on the table, he reached over to press the call button to get the nurse. "The nurse'll come to finish dressing your injuries, I have to go, IU have to tell House."

"Tell him what?"

Chase paused and looked up at him. "The needle mark in your arm." He explained the nurse walked in. "Sorry I can't finish!" He called as the nurse walked in.

She gave him a questioning look and James waved it off absent mindedly and politely asked her to finish dressing his wounds, she would be the one doing it in a few minutes anyway.

Chase ran down the hallway narrowly avoiding the people that were walking at him. He yelled his apologies and jumped out of the way of carts and trays. It didn't take him long to reach House's office where he was sure the three were still sitting. He banged open the door and stood there catching his breath before speaking.

"Well look who it is, the wombat." House said giving him an icy smirk.

"I think I just found out how Wilson got sick." He said in the doorway.


	8. I Have What?

I Have What?

"What?" House asked, actually dumbfounded, staring at the Aussie who just ran into the room.

"I think I know why Dr. Wilson's been getting sick." He said walking over to House.

"Well spit it out."

"I found a needle mark, a needle mark on his arm he was injected with something and that's what making him sick, we have to run tests for something in his blood, for diseases." Chase said in haste with a small smirk on his face. "If we find out what he was injected with them we can treat him."

House looked almost happy for a moment but it was quickly covered up by his cold exterior. "Well that's brilliant, but what exactly should we be searching for? In case you didn't know almost every disease in the book can be injected some way or another."

"Well, uh…"

"Are you suggesting we try every single test to see what we can find? Do you know how much that would cost and how long that would take?" House snapped.

Chase bit his lip and lowered his head in thought, he didn't think this whole thing through he supposed. "Well, I suppose we could – "

"Okay we will, I'm game." House said and limped out of the room and down to Wilson's room to fill him in on their plans.

Back in the room, the three young doctors stood in a confused silence for several seconds. "What just happened here?" Forman asked the room.

"I'm not sure…" Cameron began. "But I think, I think, House just agreed with Chase."

Chase merely shrugged his shoulders. "Is that what that was?"

"I think." She answered, still stumped on the whole situation herself. "So exactly what was it you found on Wilson? A needle mark? An injection point?"

Chase nodded and sat down in a chair, prepared to tell them exactly what he found out.

Down the hall House was traveling at a tremendous speed to James's room. He needed to take a sample of blood from his friend and he needed to now. He opened the door to the room and entered just as the young nurse who had changed his bandages was preparing to leave.

House watched her leave quickly with a raised eyebrow and when she was completely gone he moseyed over to the far table and began looking for something. "Did you at least pay her for her services?" He asked sarcastically.

James rolled his tired eyes and chose not to dignify that with a response, but rather he started a new conversation. "What are you doing over there?"

"Looking… for this." He said raising his hands out and holding up a fresh needle. He walked over to the bed and placed the needle down on the metal tray that sat on the nightstand. He opened the drawer and pulled out a rubber tie that he quickly wrapped around James's arm, the arm that wasn't currently covered in a bandage. He took out an alcohol swab and ran it over his arm a couple times before opening the package that the needle was in.

"Can I ask why you're about to jab me with a needle?"

"Of course."

There was a long silence as House quickly examined the needle to make sure nothing on it was malfunctioning. "Why are you about to jab me with a needle?" James finally asked, realizing that House wouldn't just tell him.

"Blood." He answered and stuck the needle into his friends arm to draw a nice tube full of blood.

"I take it you're doing tests then? For what?"

"Don't know."

"House, I'm not going to have you –" James cut off by a series of coughs wrack through his body. When he removed the tissue from he mouth he saw bright red specks of blood on it, he shivered at the sight but continued on speaking anyway "I'm not going to have you doing random tests on me, not until you know what you're testing for."

"And do what until then? Sit around and watch you slowly die? I don't think so, we're doing anything drastic, just some basic tests. MRI, x-rays, a few blood tests, just to get an idea of what we can rule out and what we can put in the maybe pile." House said still holding the needle filled with blood. "I'll be back, just gonna go have a duckling run this down to the lab."

James was about o say something else but he coughed once more, he politely placed his hand in front of his mouth as he coughed allowing the specks of blood to litter his hand rather then reaching for a tissue. "Okay, do a few tests, I don't care just don't start treating me until you know exactly what it is."

"How could you ever think I would?" House asked pretending to be insulted.

"Could you hand me that please?" James said nodding his head toward the night stand.

"Hand you what?"

"The water, I can't reach it with my arm like this, could you hand it to me? My throat feels funny."

"Hurt funny or just funny funny?"

"I don't know." He said shaking his head and downing about half the glass.

"For a doctor you're not to insightful, now c'mon open up."

James raised an eyebrow and suppressed a cough. "Excuse me?"

"Open, I wanna see if your throat is red, that's a symptom you know." He said as if talking to a young child. "Now open wide and I might give you a lollie pop, and don't cough on me."

"You're ridiculous." James said as House stuck a tongue depressor in his mouth and shone a small penlight.

"And your sputum is bright red."

"What?" James said as the tongue depressor was removed from his mouth.

"You sputum is bright red and your coughing up blood, that is another symptom and now we can narrow down the tests." House said simply as he picked up the blood once more and transferred it into a small vial. "Should've done this before, huh?" He asked while doing it.

"Are all the rest of your symptoms still present?" House asked as he placed the vile of blood in a plastic bag and wrapped a tight bandage around the hole where he took the blood.

"All of them." James replied pulling the blackest up closer to his chin, with everyone changing his bandages and taking blood he hadn't had time to warm himself from the chills that he had. "My cough's gotten worse… my fever is still high, and I just feel like crap."

"Feeling like crap is a rare symptom, let's examine that one." House said as he limped over to a chair, momentarily forgetting about the vial of blood. "How's your breathing?"

"It's getting harder…"

"Are you having naughty thoughts?"

"House…"

"Okay, okay, so irregular breathing, if this keeps up we might have to hook you up to something." James outwardly moaned. "Oh it's just a machine, it'll breathe for you, one less thing you'll have to worry about."

"House…"

"Just take that blood sample down to the lab, the quicker you found out what this is the quicker I can get out of here." James said quietly.

House stood up and grabbed the blood. "Wait here." He said before walking out of the room and down the hall.

"Not too many other places I can go." James muttered.

Before he knew it he was being moved down to the MRI by Forman and Cameron, Chase was ordered by House to take the blood sample down to the lab. Now he was constantly coughing up blood and his fever had risen even higher. His breathing was slow and forced, they were very deep and the two Doctors who sat up in the room preparing to perform the MRI were getting worried about his increasingly worsening condition.

"Okay Wilson, just try and stay as still as possible." Cameron said into the small speaker so he could hear her.

"I know how an MRI works." He breathed and she moved him into the large machine.

She chose not to respond but watched he went in, she glanced over to Forman and sighed. "I don't care what House says, he has pneumonia. All the symptoms add up."

"But what about that injection point Chase found?" Forman asked.

"That could be from a number of things, maybe they gave some kind of anesthesia or gave him a hallucinogen." She guessed.

"Wouldn't we have noticed something else a little off?"

"Not if they gave it to him when they first… you know… got him."

On the machine they noticed James had begun to move a bit, Cameron leaned over to the intercom and spoke. "Wilson? What's the matter?" She asked knowing he knew full well not to move in an MRI and if he was moving then something had to be wrong.

"Get him outta there." Forman said to her as he rushed out of the room and down to James. Cameron was down seconds later after she hit the button to bring him out.

When they saw his face they saw how incredibly paler he had gotten, almost to the point where he was a bluish gray color. He was sweating and his breathing had gotten very shallow and his eyes were rolling around in his head.

"He's going into shock." Cameron said lifting up his cold wrist and feeling his pulse. "We need help in here…" She muttered as Forman worked to stop. "We need some help down here; a patient has just gone into shock." She said quickly over a com before going back to help Forman.

A little over an hour later James was safely in his room with House sitting at his side watchfully. He arrived at the scene late due to the fact he could not run and he was quite some distance away. James was recovering slowly from the shock, lucky there would be no long term damage; so far there wouldn't be any.

The eyelids of his friend began to flutter and House was immediately alert. He watched as James slowly gained his consciousness and looked around the room in confusion. "Wh… wha…"

"Here." House said handing him a glass of water.

James drank it slowly and when he finished looked at House with blurry eyes. "What happened?"

"You went into shock while in the MRI, Cameron and Forman never did get to finish it."

"Sorry." He slurred.

"Don't be." House said slowly as if thinking and hesitating on what he should say next. "You won't need the MRI… Going into shock is a symptom, and with your other symptoms I think I know what we're looking at here."

"What do I have?" James breathed as he tried t regain his strength a little.

"I don't know for sure, we have to run blood tests for yersinia pestis bacteria, but… but I think you have the pneumonic plague, all the symptoms add up perfectly." House said his voice cracking ever so slightly.

"The plague? Who the hell gets the plague anymore?"

"The injection point Chase found, we think that's how you go it, someone gave it to you." House said quietly.

"Oh… I have the plague…" He whispered before breaking into a fit of coughs, House winced as he saw bits of blood fly out of his mouth

It didn't need to be spoken, they both knew what the plague was, particularly this one. The pneumonic plague, James had about eighty percent of the symptoms and the shock he slipped into topped it all off. No one thought of it because the plague was so outrageous, but they should have seen it should have caught it before it got this far. They both knew, they both knew that the survival rate of this specific plague was only thirty percent. James was near death if they didn't begin treating it.

**AN: **Okay, just to clear up a couple things, I'm mixing the pneumonic plague and bubonic plague up a bit… Forgive me? Bleh, it's all the plague the plague is the plague right? Oh dear! What ever will happen to our dear Jimmy Wilson!? Just you wait for the next episode of House M.D.! ... yeah I'll stop now.


	9. Death is at the Door

**AN:** Okay so, I was watching Dead Poets Society today and might I say damn, I knew there was a reason I loved that movie so much! Robert Sean Leonard is hot! He really is… and I enjoy seeing him shirtless in those scenes… even if one of them was depressing and made me sad for the day… (sighs) well anyway aside from Robert's immense adorableness shall we continue with this story? I think we shall, enjoy…

Death is at the Door

It was quickly confirmed that he did indeed have the plague; various nurses came in with masks, aprons and gloves on. They had to move him to a more secure ward, they weren't sure if he was still contagious or not. James gave a small smile to House right before he was wheeled out of the room and down the hall; he knew House couldn't follow him. Since he did have the plague everyone he was in contact with had to get tested for it.

So House arrived in the one room they set aside so they could take blood from every doctor, orderly and nurse to be tested in a daze. He was still shocked by the fact that his friend had the plague and a very small chance of survival. But now the fact that dozens of other people he came in contact with in the hospital might have it as well.

When he looked around the room he saw his ducklings Chase was playing with the Band-Aid on his arm where they took the blood, Cameron was rolling down her sleeve and Forman was sitting in the chair staring at the nurse taking blood from him. House hobbled over with his cane and sat down in the chair next to Forman, propping his feet up on the table.

"This so weird…" Cameron said folding her arms across her chest and warming herself up. "I mean what if he really… what if he doesn't make it?"

"He will, he won't die." House said with his usual cocky certainty.

"House…" She trailed off, not really sure what to say or do for him, everyone knew they were each others best friends. "You can't possibly know that, you have to accept the fact that something could –"

"No." He shook his head. "I have nothing to accept because he's not going to die."

Cameron sighed and looked over to Chase and Forman; both looked at her and gave her a look saying to not even try to sway his mind. She knew this, but she had to try. Forman stood up and allowed House to get his blood taken next. "Where's Wilson now?" Chase asked trying to fill in the painful silence.

"Where do you think?" House asked irritably. "In a private room upstairs getting doses of streptomycin. The doctors treating him think he was infected about twenty hours ago…"

"But with the plague… you have to be treated within eighteen hours…" Forman said coming to the painful realization. "Oh God."

"They could be wrong." House shot back. "We'll never know when he was injected with the stuff, it's a gamble and it's a gamble we'll win."

"Then it's not a gamble." Chase mumbled. "Then we have nothing to worry about."

"You're right we don't." House said getting up, not bothering to take a Band-Aid from the nurse who took his blood.

Cameron grunted as he left the room, she then turned her attention to the blonde Aussie not too far away from her. "You shouldn't encourage him like that, he has to accept what might happen."

Chase nodded in agreement. "Or," he argued. "We could keep up our hopes and pray he makes it out of this alive."

She looked down. "Yeah, we could do that."

"Come on, I think we should run some of these blood samples down to the lab." Forman said taking a few vials and handing them over to his two companions. He wanted to speak up during the two's 'argument' but he just couldn't, he was never really very good at consoling people, especially people like House. He didn't know what to do, he didn't know what to say, he wasn't as caring and compassionate as Cameron. He wasn't as hopeful and understanding as Chase. He was just Forman; he didn't know what he was doing yet.

"You're right." Cameron said sighing as she picked up a few vials. "Let's go."

House hobbled down the hall and to the elevator, he knew exactly where he was going and what he was going to do. James was appointed to the new ward a couple hours ago; he was sleeping when House left. By now they should have been able to decipher whether or not he was still contagious or not.

When he pushed the button for the elevator he had to wait a few grueling seconds for the doors to open. When they did he recognized a couple doctors walk out, one of them he recognized from the Oncology Department and another from the Burn Unit, the second they saw him they both averted their eyes and walked away faster. House scoffed as they left, it seemed like wherever he went someone was giving him pity or sympathy, he wasn't the one on the verge of death; they shouldn't be giving it to him.

He stepped in the elevator and hit the button for the proper floor. He hoped no one else would need this elevator he didn't feel like taking pit stops on different floors. But it didn't seem anyone did, he made it up to the appropriate floor within seconds. He stepped out and looked around; this was the floor where people with infection diseases were held. He knew the room number where James was staying, 412.

He walked into the room, it wasn't the main room, it was a room where the monitors and computers sat so the doctors could monitor him without getting too close to him in fear of the infection spreading. House was almost sure he could no longer be contagious, but the other doctors wanted to be careful. He looked through the glass window and saw his oldest and best friend lying on the bed, heavy blankets pulled up to his chin with wire, air tubes and needles attached to him in every possible spot.

House walked over to the door and grabbed a face mask before entering, James would probably be contagious for a while but he wasn't all that sure when he was infected, it had to be a good twenty four hours ago. He looked so pathetic as he walked in, he was still clad in bandages and bruises still littered his body, only now he was pale and sickly from the plague. He looked like death itself.

James moaned in his bed as if sensing House's presence. He opened his eyes slightly and stared off into space, like he didn't recognize him. He soon closed his eyes and moaned quietly, shifting in the bed.

"James?" House asked, his voice slightly muffled by the mask as he sat down beside the bed. "James, it's me, it's House."

"Greg…" He breathed and cracked his eyes open to see him.

"Yeah, yeah, it's Greg… How're you feeling?"

James coughed, droplets of blood flying up out of his mouth. "I don't… I dunno…" He croaked out looking up at House, his throat was obviously in intense pain, he kept swallowing and choking.

House shut his eyes; he couldn't bare to see him struggle so much. "Don't talk too much." He managed to get out quietly. "You're throats pretty bad and your lungs aren't in their best condition."

"I've… no – ticed…" He said right before he jerked forward and started retching. House jumped up and grabbed a tissue to place in front of his mouth to catch the blood that was sure to fly out.

House laid him down on the bed and stroked his brown hair back and away from his forehead. James took large halting breaths as he tried to fill his damaged lungs. He didn't really have anything to say, and there was really nothing that could be said. No matter what he said or did the situation wouldn't change, James would still have the plague, still have a fifteen percent chance of survival and he would still be in this room suffering.

He sat in the room for almost an hour until one of the doctors came in and made him leave so they could give him some more of the antidote. House didn't even put up an argument to the doctors, he just got up without a word and walked into the other room where there was another doctor monitoring his activities. House ripped the mask off his face and threw it roughly in the garbage can near the desk.

He inhaled a long deep breath to fill his lungs and try to calm him down. He looked into the other room and observed two doctors standing over James as he painfully retched some more. House couldn't take it; he walked out of the room and into the near empty hallway. As fast as he could he reached the bathroom and prayed it was empty. As he swung open the door he was relieved to find it was indeed empty. He walked over to the sink, hung his cane on the paper towel dispenser and splashed water on his face before looking at himself in the mirror. His stubble beard was getting a bit longer then he kept it, his clothes and hair were messier then usual and there were large bags under his blood shot eyes. Apparently he had been getting less sleep then he thought he was.

But that wasn't the thing he saw in the mirror that concerned him the most, it was the fact that his chin was quivering ever so slightly and his eyes were watering and making his vision blurry. Gregory House did not cry, he would not cry. He bent his head down and splashed his face with some more water before looking back up, hoping that would help. But it didn't, he still saw the salty tears form in his eyes and eventually fall down his cheeks. It was catching up with him, all of it. What was his life without James in it? For the better half of his life James had been by his side, whether they be studying or hammered in a bar. What would he do if he suddenly wasn't there?

House leaned down over the sink and let out a choked sob and shut his eyes allowing the water to fall into the sink and seep down the drain. Thankfully no one walked in the bathroom during the twenty minutes of his well disserved melt down. When he walked out he was dry eyed and steady, as he walked over James's room.

* * *

Elsewhere a grown woman sat in a room, a bedroom; it looked like a run down motel, stroking the hair of a doll. She was smiling slightly and staring at the figure in wonder. She seemed to be in her own little world until the door flung open and a man stormed in, she got frightened and shrunk back to the corner of her bed against the wall.

"I thought you were going to give him plague." He hissed.

She nodded. "But I did." She said keeping all her composure. "I got the pretty boy really sick." She smiled and looked down at the doll, giggling to herself.

"Not sick enough, he was conscious for a while, someone found him quick, before the disease took its full effect. He gave them our names Sarah!" He yelled turning around and punching the wall.

Her eyes tore away from her ratty doll and looked up at him, mortified and near tears. "So… so they're…"

"They're looking for us and it won't be long before they find us. They're probably already in our house snooping around, we have got to get out of here and quick." Steven Carthwall growled as he walked over and grabbed her suitcase from the floor and began throwing her possessions into it, along with the doll she was caressing.

"Where's Danny?" She said in her quiet voice, with her shoulders hunched, she looked frightened of her older brother and very intimidated by him.

"Downstairs in the car, he's waiting for us. C'mon Sarah, we have to leave now!" He hissed, but noticed how she feared him; he sighed and softened his tone before speaking once more. "Come on, you know I can never stay mad at you. I'm sorry I yelled." He said before giving her a brotherly kiss on the forehead.

She gave a happy crooked smile and slid off the bed, she straightened her long dress for a moment and then grinned at Carthwall, her smile quickly faded though. "Alright, but I miss the pretty boy, I wish he didn't have to go so soon. He was my baby, he screamed when I played with him. It's like music."

He wrapped one arm around her as he closed the case with the other. "I know, sweet, I know you loved him, but it was too much of a risk keeping him any longer, I know you understand, I promise I'll get you a new one soon."

"It won't be the same."

"I understand my sweet, but we can't keep up this chit chat any longer, we have to go. The police are looking for us; we have to leave the state. Get back to our beach house in Florida, you like it there."

She pouted like a child. "I like it here, the mice in the basement squeal if you squeeze their head tight." She giggled, thinking of the memory.

"I know, but no matter where we go there will be mice, so no need to worry about that. Besides I didn't really like this place, it's not good enough for my kin." He smiled at her and walked her from the room with one arm around her and the other carrying the bag.

"How long will we have to run?" She asked absent mindedly.

He shrugged. "I don't know, a few weeks at the least, we'll have to go by different names for a while…"

"But I like my name."

"I know you do."

When they passed the man at the front desk it was obvious he wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention to anything. He was an overweight man, balding slightly and staring at a small TV placed on the front desk. Carthwall walked over to him and placed the key down before leaving.

"Checking out?" The man asked snapping to attention and taking the key and hanging it up the key on the hook with the rest of them.

Carthwall gave him a polite smile. "Yes, thank you." He said using the same fake persona he used to fool James. The man gave a half smile in return and went back to his small TV, Carthwall kept up the politeness until he was out the door, that was when his face became cold and hard once more.

He opened the back door and let Sarah in first; she laid down in the seat and sighed. He then closed the door securely and walked up to the front passengers seat, Danny was sitting next to him, chewing on his upper lip with both hands on the wheel , ready to drive on. His eyes were set forward and his breathing a little ragged, like he was a little worried. "Can we drive now?" He asked.

"Yes, Danny," Carthwall said as he made sure Sarah was comfortable in the back seat, all curled up and hugging herself. "We can go."

"Good." He smiled and turned the key of the ignition and put the car in drive. In moments they were driving away, as casual as can be. No one would suspect a thing, they gave fake names at the front desk and Carthwall doubted the man at the front paid much attention to their faces; he seemed like the sort of man that would linger on women so he made sure to always be walking with Sarah, his arm around her and obstructing his sight of her. He suspected their might be cameras, but she always walked looking down anyways, and his own face would always be covered with a ball cap, along with Danny's. Unless they called in profilers and studied their every move they should be safe until they got to another location. Besides, he didn't suppose James Wilson would be giving them any description of them any time soon, he figured by now the plague was taking its full effect.


	10. My Final Words

**AN:** I saw Young Frankenstein the musical! Oh my God it was amazing and so funny! Roger Bart was brilliant as Dr. Frankenstein! It was just like the movie only better! My dad argues nothing can beat the movie, but we'll see what he thinks after we go next month. I saw it on a "class trip" with school. Honestly I think my teachers just wanted to see it so they rallied a buncha students together and called it a class trip so the school would pay. But if you wanna go see it I suggest you do so now before the cast changes, they were great.

But anyway I was babbaling about things you guys probably don't care to much about; I'm a theatre major, sorry. On with the chapter with no further disturbances.

My Final Words

It was official, James was now deemed no longer infectious. This meant that House could spend as much time as he liked in the room without the other doctors worrying over him getting sick as well. Now he no longer had to wear a mask, he could just sit in the isolated room and watch the antibiotics flow into his young friends system. He was getting steadily worse looking as time went on. His cheeks were sunken in making the bones in his face jut out obnoxiously. He had deep dark bags under his eyes and whenever he did gain consciousness it was to cough up more blood being passing out again.

But House kept sitting with him, talking to him about the old times when they were in school. When House first took James to a bar so he could by his first drink on his twenty first birthday. When the pair went on a road trip during the summer between James's third and fourth year of college. When James convinced House to see a Broadway musical, said if he could watch soap opera he could watch this. House almost walked out in the middle of it, but James suspected it was all for show, he think he liked it.

So many things they went through together, the good and the bad. He was there when he broke up with Mindy, his first wife, and again when he broke up with Bonnie, his second, and finally Julie his third ex-wife. But just as House was there for him, he was there for House when he and Stacy slip up. They've been through just about everything together, now House just might have had to go through the death of his best friend, but the thing was, he needed his best friend in order to do that. It was a paradox.

All he did was sit there and stare at him in complete silence. His once rich chocolate hair that was so well groomed was now sticking to his forehead. He looked awful close to death, anybody could see that, it looked like at any moment that little beeping noise that gave House all his reassurance would suddenly stop and a flat line would go straight across the screen all numbers at zero and he would hear that dreaded flat line.

But he wouldn't let that happen, no. He was a world renowned doctor for cripes sake. People came from all over the place to see him specifically he solved all the cases and healed all the people, save for a few but you can't cure the incurable. But this… he should have seen it, he should have been able to figure it out. To cure him before the disease took its full course, but he didn't. He couldn't stop it, he couldn't prevent it, there was nothing he could do but hope the antibiotics took effect and worked. Gregory House had never been a religious man, but now he was praying for James to get well.

Cuddy was standing in the room where all the equipment to watch James sat, staring at him through the glass. Normally he would be annoyed and rudely tell her to back off, but right now he didn't care. He didn't care she was worried sick about not only James but him as well, or the fact that the rest of his team was stressing over his health as well. He didn't care about much of anything outside the room right now. All he cared about was the man in the bed.

It seemed like forever before James's eyes fluttered open, House didn't notice at first. He thought it was some sort of illusion or hallucination that his mind was making up because he wanted it so badly, but it wasn't. James opened his eyes and stared up around the room in a haze, his eyes were unfocused and he was slowly blinking and lobbing his head from side to side.

"James?" House asked quietly trying to get his attention. "James are you awake?"

"Urg… Uh…" James moaned and tried to concentrate his blurred and scrambled vision on the man standing over him. He could barley tell who it was, his eyes were tearing and it seemed like the whole world was spinning. But the voice kept calling his name, desperately it seemed. It sounded familiar, it sounded almost like… "Gr… Gre…" he gave up, he couldn't say the name it was too much strength. It seemed like he couldn't get enough air, his throat was dry and he wouldn't get words out.

"Yeah, it's me, it's Greg." He said. "Try not to talk to much."

"Greg…" He choked out hoarsely after a few attempts.

"Shh."

"No… pl-ease… listen."

House could tell James was firmly set on talking right now, even though he knew very well he shouldn't be. He should be sleeping, letting the antibiotics take their effect and make him better. But he knew James; he knew that nothing could stop him from speaking his mind when he felt he had to, so it was best to simply let him get whatever he had to say off his chest.

"What is it?" He asked with his voice cracking slightly.

"House… If I die…"

Those words felt like a knife stabbing House in the chest. He didn't need to hear that, he knew it was a possibility sure; he was a Doctor he knew the odds but he didn't need to hear them out loud.

"If… if I die… thanks…"

"For what?" House asked. "I'm not exactly your typical best friend." Did he just say that? Best friend? They never actually said that to one another, it was always just implied, it had never really truly been acknowledged.

James laughed shortly and dryly. "No… not exa-cly, but you've always been... there." It sounded as though he struggled and forced the last few words out. "I've known you… for twen-ty years, Greg… you helped me through Med. School… my divorces… you always pull through… even now." He whispered.

"And so will you, you'll pull through, you'll get better and in a weeks time you'll be up and about and we'll be laughing about this. Okay well, maybe not laughing but…"

"You're rambling on… we both know I might die… the chances… are not in my… favor… I just want you to know… You're my best friend… you're like a bro-ther to me… you're closer to me them my own brother is…" He sighed and allowed his voice to take a break before continuing to speak. "And thanks… for every-thing… and for finding me… I would have died… before anyone would ha-ve gone up there to look… Maids don't come up to my room until the evening…" He chuckled slightly, causing his body to convulse in violent coughs.

"You wouldn't have died." House said as he held a tissue in front of his mouth to catch the blood and whipped off the drops that were making their way down out of the corner of his mouth.

"I would have… I would have bled out, or… collapsed lung… disease…" He trailed off and his head fell to the side.

House panicked. He thought for a moment he had died but when his eyes scanned the monitors he saw that all his vitals were still working properly. He let out his held in breath and leaned back in the chair. He thought for a moment that he had died on him, but it turned out it seemed that he just fell asleep, or passed out. One or the other.

He closed his own eyes and thought this painful conversation was over, but apparently James wasn't quite ready to end it.

"I'm sorry… I'm going too soon… too many things… haven't done… can't… leaving everyone… you…" His breathing became labored and all House wanted to do was block out the wet breathy voice of his friend.

"No, stop talking, I'm revoking your talking privileges. All you get to do now is sleep. You're getting delirious. Rest." He ordered and laid his hand down on James's chest, he immediately regretted it. He could feel the ragged breathing, the hot and clammy touch of his skin, even though the blanket and hospital gown, the stillness and horrific shape of his body.

"Not… delirious…"

He shook his head even though he knew James still had his eyes closed. "I don't say this too often Jimmy, but please, please just rest. Just sleep, you need to get better. You will get better."

"I won't… won't… get…"

"Yes, you will, now say it." He struggled to speak now.

"Greg…"

"Just say it."

"I'll… get bet-ter…" He grunted and coughed lightly.

House sighed and leaned back. That's all he needed. Just those words, those three words was all he needed. "Thank you, now get some rest, you sound awful."

"Yeah…" James said and House could see him drift off into sleep.

* * *

Cuddy watched this display from the sealed off glass room. Her real intention on coming here was too go in and make House go home and get some rest. But now she wasn't sure that she could do that, she couldn't hear them in there, but she knew they were talking. She would see James's chest heave up and down as he struggled to speak, the regret House felt for not figuring it out sooner.

She felt like she was intruding on a private moment between the two, but she couldn't force herself to look or walk away. Never had she expected House to be able to act like this, so caring an compassionate, of course James she knew he had it in him. He was always caring and sweet, he was the nicest person in the whole hospital and at times could be the funniest as well his pranks on House never ceased to amaze her. Why did things like this always happen to the nice ones? The good people. James would go out of his way to help someone, she had seen him do it in this very hospital, helping patients that weren't his own. He didn't disserve all of this, not that so many other people did... but not him... not James Wilson. She couldn't watch him die.

She looked down to the ground as she saw James's head fall to the side, holding her breath she peeked over to the many monitors in the room she was standing in and saw that he was still alive. She looked back up with releif and saw the same same paniked look on House's face that she had on her own only moments ago. His shoulders fell and he leaned back against the chair. The two spoke a little more she saw which she noted suprised House, he must have thought that he was sleeping. He would have all reasons to, James still had his eyes shut, he was getting tired. Soon he would fall asleep.

She finally got herself to turn away and leave the room. She stepped back out into the hallway where the three young doctors stood. She told them she would go in and talk to House, that she would stay with James as House went home or even to his office and got some sleep.

She shugged her shoulders to them and opened her mouth to speak. "I can't do it." She said simply and walked down the hallway and to her office.

They all remained in silence for several moments, no one knew what to say or what to do. They all just knew this, if Lisa Cuddy couldn't intervene what chance did any of them have? They all soon left, went to the clinic try and get all the thoughts of death out of their minds. They had to stop thinking about it.


	11. Family is Forever

**AN:** See I'm back, I didn't die. Here we are once more with a fresh chapter ready for all you awesome people who read and review this story. I hope you're not disappointed, but if you are there's really nothing I can do about it. Meh, I was watching a rerun of Friends at like midnight while I was contemplating this chapter and it was the episode with Hugh Laurie in it. I was laughing so much at the irony; it's good to hear his English accent every now and then. But anyhoo, on with the chapter.

Family is Forever

Panic was overwhelming Carthwall, he hadn't expected the damn Jew to survive. He thought he would be dead before he was found, he wasn't supposed to be found that quick and Sarah was supposed to give him more of the illness then she had. But he couldn't stay mad at her, it wasn't her fault she didn't have time to decipher how much to give him without killing him right away. So he couldn't place all the blame on her, it was all their faults they got sloppy this time and it wouldn't happen again.

They would have to change their names he knew, last names probably. If the doctor was smart he would have given the police their names he might not have remembered what they looked like. As soon as they crossed a few states borders they would go and legally change their names, last names only. He could come up with a good cover story. Soon this would all blow over; it was a hate crime, which was what it they thought it was, against a Jew. They would worry over it for a few weeks then it would all be old news.

He glanced in the rear view mirror. Sarah was lying down on the backseat, sleeping. They had been driving for twelve hours now, he and Danny had been switching off every five hours and they let Sarah stay in the backseat resting it with her dolls. She had a lot of dolls, porcelain ones, personally he found them creepy. They all had long ball gowns on some came with masquerade masks but she lost them a long time ago. Looking to his right Danny was sleeping in his seat whimpering slightly. The poor guy, wasn't all that bright, but he was a sweet kid and the brother of his beloved wife so he looked after him in her passing. After all he promised her he would.

It was beginning to get dark out, the street lamps had turned on and they were running low on gas. Only had two eighths of a tank left, the next exit he would have to turn off and get some more. He would buy some snacks as well, they were beginning to run out and Sarah liked to munch on sun chips while she stared out the window.

Next exit, one mile, food and gas. Perfect.

He took the exit and almost right away ran into a gas station. It was more expensive then he would have preferred, but he would have to live with it if that was his only option. He pulled into the pump and parked his car; he was no longer in New Jersey so it was a self serve gas station. He entered the store and walked around for a moment picking up things to eat and drink for their trip. Silently he walked over to the counter.

"On a trip?" The bearded mad at the register asked as if it was a routine thing.

"Yeah." Worthen said. "And could I have forty dollars of regular on pump two."

"Sure thing, man." he said and glanced over at the small TV behind him as the commercial ended and it went back to the news report.

The lady on the TV sat at her desk with her hands folded, a somber expression on her face. "Now, new updates on the hate crime committed against Doctor James Wilson, Roger?"

"Thank you, Tammy." The man said as the camera angle changed to show him. "The hate crime against Doctor Wilson still remains unsolved, and his condition is only worsening. As many of you know he was infected with the pneumonic plague along with withstanding numerous other injuries after he was abducted for several days. Not long after the investigation started it was labeled as a hate crime."

The rest of the report was muffled out as the man at the counter began to speak. "Some sick people in this world, huh? Can't believe people can still commit crimes like that. Well anyway, that'll be fifty four, thirty."

"Sure." Worthen said and handed the man a fifty and a five. "Keep the change." He said and walked out of the store with his bag at his side. He was lucky that time; they didn't describe the abductors or say their names. Next time he might not be that lucky.

* * *

James's parents had arrived in New Jersey the other day and came to see their son at the hospital before they even got a hotel room. They saw their son everyday and House was even forced to engage in conversation with them to update them on his condition. He had met the pair a couple times, all at James's weddings and a couple times when he was in high school.

He was standing outside the room with them telling them that James's condition was no different then it was the previous day when a man ran up to them, out of breath.

"Where's Jimbo?" The middle aged man asked in haste.

"Who are you?" House said looking him up and down, he looked familiar but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Michel Wilson, I'm his big brother… dammit I should have been here sooner." He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, despite how much he wished he could have been here sooner it was impossible, his work took him out of the country so it was nearly impossible to get here any sooner.

As the two parents went over to comfort their son House remembered. He knew Michael, he knew the family, but didn't see them nearly as much as he did twenty years ago. He met them when he first became friends with James, the family was skeptical of their fourteen year old son becoming friends with a man who was several years into his college career, but they never paid mind to it. He got to know Michael better then the parents, sometimes he would tag along with them since he was nineteen at the time, but other times he had to babysit their youngest brother. House couldn't even remember his name now.

House sighed and walked back over to the worried trio. "James is in there." He said and pointed with his cane to the private room. "He's been under quarantine for the last few days but he's not contagious anymore so you can go see him." He said quietly.

"Is it true? What the news says I mean? He has pneumonic plague? Isn't that so…"

"Out of date?" House asked and he gave a small nod. "It usually is but apparently someone wanted your brother infected with it. The disease was injected into his system."

Of course Michael was filled in on all the information, he knew about the abduction, about the speculation of it being a hate crime and why, but being told over the phone and hearing it and seeing his brother lying deathly still on the bed was a while different matter. "So they have no idea who did this?"

"They have names, but so far they're not having any luck finding the people." House said.

"What were their names?"

House stood silent.

"Come on House, tell me. I know you know their names." He said starting to get angry.

"Mikey, maybe you should…" His mother began only to have her cut off by her eldest son.

"No, mom, I need to know, what were the names of the people who did this to my baby brother." James was the middle child of three, the youngest son no one had seen in a decade. Ever since they lost contact with him Michael had become a bit protective of his other brother, making sure they never went too long without speaking or knowing what the other was up to.

House nodded. "Three people, Steven and Sarah Carthwall and Daniel Worthen. Those are their names."

"Carthwall?" Michael asked and looked down in deep thought.

"What's wrong?" His father asked with concern worrying now that something was happening to his other son.

"The name… sounds familiar." He mumbled and then snapped his head up and gave them a look of realization. "Of course, Jimbo, he… he told me about a case he had a little while ago. The woman's name was Eliza, Lisa, Lizzy something I don't know but her last name was Carthwall. He was really upset about it because he couldn't save her and her family took it hard."

House stared off at the distance as a series of thoughts ran through his head, giving him new ideas and new options. "Oh my God… this wasn't a hate crime… or not completely at least… I gotta go." He said and right away limped off down the hall before anyone could say anything else.

Everyone was left a little startled, but it was safe to say they all knew where he was headed. House was smart and was able to piece tings together, that's why he was a diagnostician, it was no secret he was headed to his office to call the detective and inform them of the new information. The detectives had been given a list of past patients, but this case never raised any red flags, and it was a while ago. They probably hadn't looked it over yet.

Meanwhile the three family members stood outside the room staring in at their son and brother. They stood like this for several long painful minutes before they were approached by three doctors. Two men and a woman.

"Excuse me," the woman said drawing their attention to her. "Can I help you?"

"Can you fix my baby boy?" The older woman asked turned around as she dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.

"Oh you're Wilson's…." She said covering her mouth her with hand for a moment. "I'm so sorry, I'm Allison Cameron, this is Robert Chase and Eric Forman, we were colleagues with your son… friends as well."

"Have you been in to see him yet?" Chase asked taking a step forward; the family shook their heads, not having the power to speak. "Well, you can, he's not contagious, we're not doing anything at the moment, he's resting." He explained and walked over to open the first door for the trio.

"Thank you." Michael said as they entered, the doctor that sat in the first room monitoring James's condition opened the second door for them, giving them a few warnings on his condition.

Cameron, Chase and Forman stood outside looking in as they awkwardly approached they fallen family member. They saw Mrs. Wilson cringe and fall into the chest of her husband, Michael fell into a chair that sat beside his brother's bed and grasped his hand. His eyes remained dry as he stared at James, mumbling a few words that no one, not even his parents could hear.

It didn't take long for James to be at least a little responsive to the words from Michael. They saw his head roll to the side and the family gasp as cry as he awoke. Michael scooted closer and began talking more intimately with James. They could see him give vague nods and the steady rise and fall of his chest become more choked. He coughed a few times, and they saw Michael reach over and pick up a tissue to catch the blood that flew out of his mouth.

The three young doctors could not watch this for much longer, they felt as though they were stepping in on a private family moment. They had all originally come to visit James, they saw House walking down the hallway, it was one of the rare times when he wasn't in the room with James. So the three unanimously decided it was a good time to go and see him, but now they couldn't, they would just have to leave and return at a different time where they didn't feel as though they were intruding.

* * *

House hung up the phone in his office; he had called the detective and gave them all the information he could about the Carthwall family and about the wife, now that he remembered the case. He remembered barging in on James while he was examining the woman, the three who abducted James were standing outside the room, waiting for him to be finished with the exam. If only he had known what they would do to him…

He sat in his office, it was different, he had stay in James's room for so long he almost forgot what this place looked like. He supposed he would be seeing a lot more of it now though, now that his family was here and staying with him. He didn't know his brother very well, but he knew the man was protective, and he knew he would be just as stubborn as he was about leaving his side. Now that they were here they would stay with him, naturally that was the family's job during a crisis like this, not the friends.

Although, House couldn't help but wonder what exactly defined family? Sure they didn't share a last name, they didn't have the same parents or the same blood, but House had known him for over twenty years, he mused. For over two decades he had schooled and helped James grow up; pass high school in the top ten of his class, graduate med school, House was even the one who put a good word into Cuddy to get James a job after he graduated. Who was the one who declared House wasn't family? He remained his best friend for over two decades that certainly must have qualified him.

With these thoughts in mind House stood up and walked back to the room.


	12. Brotherly Bond

AN:

AN: Wow, that took forever, I wrote like a paragraph a day so this went along slowly but here it is, I got it done. Hope you all like it and it satisfies you until next time.

Brotherly Bond

Michael had been so far the only one to convince House to take a break and at least go down to the cafeteria to eat something, even if he said he didn't want to go home. Even if House was only gone for five minutes he was happy, he wanted some time alone with his brother. His parents had gone home a couple hours ago for the night; he would be spending the night at the hospital.

He paid a bit for attention to protocol then House did, he kept the mask on his face, the doctors claimed he was no longer contagious and they were all given a shot to counter the virus if it did infect them but they still wanted all visitors to wear a mask while around him. House just decided to ignore this rule. Michael wanted to be cautious, he loved his brother more then anything, but he also loved his parents and he didn't think they could take it if their third and last son caught the virus as well.

He studied James after the doctors left, they just came in to check him over and make sure he was still stable, and he was. They could all be thankful for that. James still looked awful though, his lips were the shade of blue you would assign to a corpse, his fingernails too. His breathing was so labored, it was uneven and wet. They told him what was going on, he knew everything, his condition was getting worse as time went on. His survival chance now was only fifteen percent, half of what it originally was.

His hand made its way to James's forehead and he lightly brushed the hair off his forehead. Just after a few second of doing this James shifted and began moaning slightly. "Jim?" He asked sitting up a little further. "Jimbo?"

James opened his eyes and gazed around the room, Michael doubted he could even see what he was looking at. "Jimbo, over here, look at me, please." He begged, gripping his hand.

"M…. Mi…ke…." He forced out through a series of coughs.

"Yeah, yeah, Jimbo it's me." He said quietly and leaned over his brother. "How are you hanging in there?"

"Jus… Just fine…" He managed to get out.

"Maybe you shouldn't talk."

"No... m'fine…" But as he finished speaking his body shook his coughs and he struggled to get a full breath.

Michael placed a hand under his back and slowly brought him up into a sitting position. James continued to cough for4 some time, his neck became tense as the veins popped out and he struggled. After a minute or so of this charade he laid James back down and took the tissue from the end table to whip the blood from his mouth.

"See?" James asked in a croak. "M'fine."

Michael laughed slightly and lowered his head down as he continued to stroke James's hair.

"W'ere Mom an' dad?" He mumbled as he closed his eyes against the white light from the room.

"Back at the hotel, I convinced them to go home." He said softly.

"Oh…" James whispered and closed his eyes again as another series of coughs and sputters shook his body, but they were over much quicker then the other episode. "Love you, Mike…"

"I love you too Jimbo."

"If… if I… die… I…"

"No, no." Mike said sitting up further and putting both hands around the face of his brother. "Don't talk like that; you're not going to die, not on my watch."

James gave a hoarse laugh and rolled his head from side to side. "You – can't do anything." He forced out a little painfully. "'M a doctor Mike… I know th' chances… I know the odd… against me…"

"What ever happened to optimism? Huh?" He asked close to tears. "You used to be so optimistic, even when Tom disappeared… you even kept your hopes up then… what about now? We need you now to be that guy." When he blinked his let lose a large tear that slowly rolled down his cheek.

"L… looks like… you're gonna 'ave t' be… th… at guy…"

"I can't, how am I supposed to be that guy when my last brother is dying in a bed in front of me?" He asked desperately.

"H… how am I supposed to be… that… guy when I can't…. when I can't even sit up?"

"I don't know!" Michael cried out lowering his head into his free arm which sat on the mattress while his other hand held securely onto James's. "You can't die, Jimbo, you just can't, I won't let you."

"Don't think that's really up t' you." He whispered letting his eyes slid shut.

Michael remained silent for a while and watched as James slipped into a quiet sleep. The only indication he was still alive was the unsteady rise and fall of his chest.

He watched this display for a while before standing up from the seat he was in, he gently let go of his brother's hand and stared for a couple seconds. As he decided it was time to let go he sighed deeply and headed out of the room rubbing his eyes with his palms. He opened the door and walked out; when it was closed behind him he ripped the mask from his face and continued to cry shamelessly.

"His chances are better."

Michael looked up, surprised; he hadn't seen House sitting in the room staring intently at the computer monitors. "What…? What did you say?" He asked stepping forward and looking at the computer screens he couldn't even begin to comprehend.

House look dumbly at him. "Are you deaf? I said his chances are better."

"They are?"

"Yes…" He responded more calmly then he had before. "His chances are twenty percent better."

"His chances were fifteen, twenty more, that's thirty five!" He exclaimed happily.

"Was math always your best subject?"

Michael glared at House for not taking this as seriously as he was. "Cut the crap, House, how well is my brother doing? Will his chances keep going up? Thirty five may be better then fifteen but its still not winning chances."

"Whatever happened to good ol' faith? Why bother looking at the statistics and charts anymore?"

Michael stared at the older man with a fierce intensity. House stared back, waiting for one of them to crack; when neither did he caved in on one another he decided to end it there. He hobbled over to a chair and sat down, glancing over at the monitors to make sure he had it all right. "I almost can't believe I'm saying this, Jimmy's improving, if he keeps it up like this he should make a full recovery."

"How long will that take?"

He shrugged and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I don't know…" He whispered. "It's too soon to tell."

"When he's cured…" Michael began and House glanced up at him, he seemed so sure James would live, not that he had his doubts but it was nice to have someone else in the hospital that seemed to think James was invincible. No matter what they said or did, as long as they believed it. "How will he be? There won't be any permanent damage… will there?"

"Scaring in the lungs is unavoidable; he won't be able to do much physical activity for a while until they heal. He'll be prone to disease for awhile until his immune system builds back up. He should recover to his full strength in time…"

"Yeah…" Michael said and a long silence grew between the two. They were almost thankful when the doors burst open and Cuddy appeared before them out of breath and disheveled. Which was rare for her, she was usually so composed and calm.

Immediately they saw something was wrong, even House could tell this wasn't the time to crack a joke about her appearance. Michael stepped forward before House had a chance, since he had to grab his cane in order for him to get up remotely fast without any serious pain. He hobbled over and stood beside her as she inhaled a deep breath, she apparently didn't thin this through, running would cause her to become tired, especially in those heels, and then whatever news she had would be delayed.

"I tried to… to page you." She heaved beginning to stand up straight. "I tried to call you, I called the nurses, the doctors, everyone! Where have you been, House!" She cried ferociously.

"Well excuse me for wanting to have a little but of alone time!" He spat back, forgetting the apparent news she still had yet to tell them.

"You should keep your pager on for emergencies! That's why you have one!"

"You always manage to find me; you did this time didn't you!"

Everyone seemed a little on edge, a little prone to anger. It wasn't that they were really mad; it was just because they couldn't think of any other way to vent their frustration and sadness with James's situation. So they yelled and screamed at one another when it wasn't called for, even Cuddy wavered and had a slip, which is what she was obviously having now.

"Can't you two just stop this for a minute?" Michael broke them up. "Doctor Cuddy, you came up here for a reason, could you enlighten us as to what that reason was?"

She took a deep breath to calm herself and nodded. "You're right, I'm sorry, this got out of hand." She glared at House for one more moment before continuing. "I just came up to tell you… they found James's attackers."

The two men became still, but only for just a moment.

"WHAT!?" House screamed and then cautiously looked over to James's sleeping form to make sure he didn't wake him, even though this glass was supposed to be sound proof, they communicated through intercom. "What?" He repeated more quietly. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Cuddy rolled her eyes and stormed out of the room, assuming they would follow her. And they did. She motioned to a couple nurses to call a doctor to watch the room, now that no one was in there. "As I told you, I tried but someone here doesn't keep their pager on."

"Where did they find them?" Michael asked.

"A small town in Kentucky right on the border of Illinois, they must have been driving for a while." She mused.

"Where are they now?" House asked.

"In custody, that's what the detective told me, they're bringing them back to Jersey to question them and perform the trial. There's no way they're getting off the hook from this, they not only have the identities of the people James told the detective about, but they practically confessed, at least that's how I heard it." She explained.

"Where are we going?" Michael asked.

"No where," she answered with a sigh. "I just didn't feel comfortable having this conversation with James so close by. Now both of you, go home, get some rest. I know I have no power of you Mr. Wilson –"

"Mike, please."

"Mike, I have no control of you like I do House," The diagnostician gave a disgruntled huff. "But go stay with your parents, go home, do something to get your mind off all this."

"I'm not sure I can." He murmured. "I'll go mom and dad though, I should be there for them, now that they caught the people who did this." He said and sauntered off with a wave of his hand, not having the courage or the strength to go back to James's room and tell him what they discovered or even say goodbye before he left, he would be back soon after all.

"What about you, House?" She asked, facing him. "What now?"

"Someone has to break the news to Jimmy." He said in a low voice before heading back to the room. He would wait until he woke up, after a minute or so he would tell him… someone had to.


	13. A Promising Outcome

AN: Well folks it's been a good run, but the next chapter I'm thinking will be the last one

AN: Well folks it's been a good run, but the next chapter I'm thinking will be the last one. There might be another one we'll have to see how that one plays out but this is coming to an end. It's for the best probably, college is starting soon (I'm mad, they canceled one of my classes due to lack of interest and now I can no longer be considered a full time student! I hate school soooo much). But enough of all that, I'm really looking forward to the season premiere of House, if I'm not done with that story by the time it airs I'm sure to rant about it, so BE WARNED!

Promising Results

James opened his eyes to a dim room with monitors beeping around him, that's all he could decipher at the moment. His vision was blurry and fading in and out, he felt like he was on the verge of passing out. He attempted to lift his head up off the pillow only to realize this was not the best idea. James let out a low man and rested his head against the pillow once again, wondering what exactly was going on. His memory seemed to be fuzzy.

"Whoa, whoa, easy there." A muffled voice came from a corner of the room accompanied by steps that approached him as quickly as they could. "I wouldn't advise on standing up just yet, unless you want to fall over, in which case I would like to witness that."

"H... ouse…" He whispered, realizing how dry and scratchy his throat was. He swallowed a few times and tried speaking again. "House… where am I?"

This worried the older doctor, if James's memory was fading in and out that wasn't a good sign. But he didn't let any of these worries show on his face. "You come here every day, you're telling me you don't know where you are?" There was no response and House decided to take a kinder approach. "James, you're in a hospital, do you remember what happened?"

A line of through appeared across his forehead as he pondered the question for a minute; he then sighed and nodded slowly. "Plague." He croaked.

He let out a sigh of relief, so his memory was fine; he was just disorientated from waking up. "Good, very good. How do you feel?"

"Hurts." He managed to get out as he shut his eyes.

"I know it does, but just hang in there a little longer. You're getting better I promise you, try not to talk all that much, you're throat should be pretty bad." By now most of the physical injuries covering his friend were nearly gone. Only some of the worse bruises lingered as well as some of the cuts, he tried to not look at the heavy bandages that covered the Jewish Star that was painfully carved into his skin; he should probably start looking into a plastic surgeon for him to get rid of that…

"Don't feel like it." James moaned taking House back from his dream land.

House gave a half roll of his eyes, he didn't want to argue. "But you are." It was true, he really was getting better, his chances of survival were increasing by the minute by now it was over fifty percent, it had been a little over a week since he had told James that the people who did this to him had been caught. They were all await a trial now, House had a feeling they would plead insanity, in fact he knew that's what they would do. "You should go back to sleep." He said patting the hand that did not currently have an IV running through it.

James shook his head.

"Why not?" He inquired.

"Don't wanna."

House grunted and shuffled forward a little more so he was practically directly above James. "Why don't you wanna sleep? You obviously need it and I am your doctor, I suggest you sleep." He really wasn't his doctor anymore, since he had been moved to intensive care all that time ago the other doctors have taken over.

James shook his head again.

If he were any other patient he would simply leave or try other more harsh methods of persuasion. But this wasn't just any patient. It was now apparent to him that he would have to try and guess what was wrong.

"You gotta pee?" He asked.

James cracked an eye open and looked at him incredulously.

"So it's not that… are you thirsty? Hungry? Do you need shelter or any of those basic needs?"

Another shake of his head.

House sighed and leaned back then a thought came and hit him like a brick wall, he felt like an idiot for not realizing it right away. He bent down so he was closer to James and whispered rather then speaking aloud said, "Are you having nightmares?"

He screwed his face up.

House took that as a yes, but the boys pride was too great for him to admit to something like that so easily. He had been through quite an ordeal and they seemed to of forgotten that over the weeks since he was so sick with the plague. "Are you?" He asked again, wanting him to admit to it.

A minute passed before his head gave the slightest of nods and a whimper.

House sighed and stroked his hand subconsciously; James cracked an eye open and looked down at his hand and gave a small smile. "You know," House began making his friend look up at him with the biggest puppy dog eyes he had ever seen, no one did it like him. "Nightmares aren't something to be ashamed of…"

"You sound like a psychologist." James murmured shutting his eyes against the world once more.

House winced at that. "I know… it's weird. But really, I mean it. Get some sleep."

"Been sleeping forever."

"But you're healing as you sleep, the more you sleep the faster you heal. The faster you heal the faster this place can get back to normal. Its crap without you around here, I have no food for lunch."

James chuckled but it quickly turned into a cough and House had to pull him up to a sitting position until it passed.

"How's that?" House asked as he settled him back down to the soft bed.

"Good." He murmured.

"If you like, I'll stay right here while you sleep, if you show any signs of having a nightmare I'll wake you up."

James gave him a pitiful glance. "You promise?"

"Yeah, I do. Now get some rest, I'll wake you up in a few hours, maybe you can try eating some soup or something. You feel up to eating?"

He shook his head.

"We'll see how you feel in a couple hours."

James gave one last nod of his head as it lolled to the side and he drifted off once more into sleep. There was one long sigh before he was fully gone and House wondered how he was able to function with so much crap in his lungs, he could hear it. He continued to hold his hand while he waited; still blissfully unaware of what he was doing.

Cuddy walked the halls with a small smile gracing her sharp features. Her mood was certainly improving, James's condition was improving to the point where they didn't have to worry too much anymore, but they would have been fools to assume nothing more could be wrong. It would still be a fight.

The people who did this to him were in jail at the moment, they would have their trial and James would have to testify. That's what she was dreading, the hearing was scheduled to take place in a month. There was no way he would have recovered fully in that time, but looking at the process he had been making he would be able to get up and walk around. Why didn't law enforcement understand he would need more time before he was able to do this, not to mention he would have to be mentally strong.

She was making the trip to James's room now to inform him of the news; she seemed to be doing that a lot lately. She thought it would be more suitable to her to tell him and House who was sure to be in the room with him. Chase, Cameron and Forman found out about the same time she did, they happen to be arguing over test results on a patient and she came to settle their dispute when she got the call.

Upon reaching the door she saw that the three younger doctors had made it there before her and were waiting. She sighed and put her hands on her hips, she was ready to yell at them for coming here but she couldn't help but wonder, "How did you get here before me?"

"You took a stop at the front office…" Forman explained quietly.

With a slight nod she continued. "Did you tell them already?"

They shook their heads. "Didn't think it was really our place," Cameron murmured. "Actually we don't really know why we showed up."

"That's right; you have a case you should be working on, right?" Cuddy asked.

Chase shrugged. "Not really, we discussed it on the way here, we're pretty sure it's actually lupus this time."

She nodded. "Right, well, stay out here." She ordered.

"We will." Cameron said. "I guess we just wanted to… make sure it all went okay."

Cuddy gave one nod and stomped into the first room, placing a mask over her face before entering the one House and James were in. The mask wasn't necessary anymore, but it was a precaution.

She walked into the room without knocking or giving them any warning. House looked up and raised an eyebrow. "What?" He asked quietly, signaling that James was sleeping.

"I came to tell you about the court date; it's scheduled to be a month from now." She said deciding to get to the point rather then dwelling over the condition of her Head of Oncology.

He stared for a moment. "A month? Are they crazy? He can't do that in a month!" He hissed in a voice as loud as he dared go.

She shrugged helplessly. "They asked for the closest date when he would be able to walk around and speak without problems and I told them. Once they informed me of what they were planning I told them that a month was too short a time but they didn't seem to care."

House glanced down at the prone still sleeping figure of James, to make sure they didn't wake him. "Let me talk to them." He said grabbing his cane and limping to the door.

"It's not like they're still on the phone." She said rolling her eyes.

"Then I'll call back, it's a magical thing to be able to call someone back!"

"What can you possibly say? It's not up to you."

"I'll tell them I'm his doctor and he can't go that soon, aside form the plague, he's still pretty beat up in case you haven't noticed."

"House –" She began to warn only to be stopped by a harsh and weak voice from behind the both of them. They turned around automatically to see James with his eyes half opened in a daze. "What was that?" Cuddy asked quietly.

"I'll do it." He repeated swallowing a few times.

She shook her head. "James, you won't be strong enough."

"I'll do it anyway."

House walked over. "You are the most stubborn man I've ever encountered."

He gave a small smile. "I learned… from the best." He said pointedly.

Cuddy sat down next to him. "I'm sorry we woke you, we're just worried, you know."

He nodded. "I know… but I'm gonna have to, to face it eventually… might as well do… do it now."

House sighed and sat down next to Cuddy. "That's stupid."

"How's the pain?" Cuddy asked sympathetically.

He gave a half hearted shrug. "Still there… dealing with it. Not as bad."

"Liar." House accused.

James snickered and blinked a couple times. "And tell those three they can come in here… doing no good standing outside the room… haven't seen them in a while."

Neither of the two moved for a moment, House raised his brow and motioned for Cuddy to go. "Well, you're the only one here who's not currently a cripple."

She stood with a small smile and walked over to the door to tell them they could come in.

"Not a cripple." James whispered.

"For now, yes, you are."

A few moments later Cuddy came in followed by the three doctors, all in masks, though they were carelessly put on. Even behind the masks James could see them smile as they took seats at the foot of the bed and opposite side where House and Cuddy were. He felt fully awake for now, he wasn't about to fall back to sleep. James was glad they woke him up, this was the first time in what felt like forever he felt coherent and alive, now they were all here to have their first decent conversation they could have with him in weeks.


	14. Gave Us A Scare

AN: College has begun I have one of my best friends in two of my classes (how lucky is that we couldn't even manage to get the same classes in high school, we didn't plan this!), and I met in a guy in my other class, he seems nice. So not as bad as it could have been, but still bad since ya know… its school.

But anyway, I have a feeling that the next chapter will be the last one. I'm splitting the two chapters up it was originally gonna be one but I think two will work better. So next chapter will be the last for sure.

Gave Us a Scare

He was feeling better, he was sitting up on his own now, he was starting to eat actual foods, his was actually getting bored again and not just sleeping for hours and hours at a time. Not to mention the fact that people were now walking into see him without the use of masks. He was a doctor, he knew how much time it would take for him to recover, it was just a couple more weeks and his full strength would be back and he would be up and around. Only another day or two until he could get discharged, he couldn't wait.

But the problem was in a week he had his court date, well less then a week now, it was on Friday and it was Sunday evening. He wanted to get it over with but he also dreaded it more then anything. He didn't want to sit there and listen to everything they did to him, he didn't want to sit on the bench and recall what happened or look at the photos of his scars… perhaps even show his scars. They were healed by now under the bandages but he didn't want to take them off. He knew what they said and what they looked like.

He knew he had to though, he wanted them locked away in a prison, he wanted them to be punished for what they did and he knew all of his friends and family did too. But he didn't know if he could face them, as much as he didn't want to say it still haunted him at night. Quite a few times he still found himself waking up in the middle of the night breathing heavily and half the time someone was always there whether it was House or Michael. He didn't always remember what they said or what he said but he knew he felt better.

Now though, those thoughts were not on the forefront of his mind. At the moment he was lying in a normal room, not one in isolation, reading a book in harmony. Or it was harmony until the door slammed open and House still there slapping his cane irritably on the ground.

James bent the book down to it laid face up on his lap. He looked up at House with a raised brow and only seconds later recognized his brother standing behind him with a similar expression.

"Can I help you?" James asked as the two walked in.

"We're required to be here." Was the first thing House said before he sat down and propped his feet up on the bed, Michael moved over and sat on the other side, closer to his brothers head.

"That makes me feel world better." The confused oncologist said placing the book on the nightstand beside him.

House grabbed the book and looked at the cover. "A Case of Need?" He asked exasperatedly, "you are a doctor, you are stuck in a hospital for months and you choose to read a book about a hospital?"

"Not about the hospital." James said defending the book and grabbing it back. "It's about illegal abortion."

"Where the main character is a doctor and half the book takes place in a lab." House cried snatching the book back and flipping through it. "At least read something that had nothing to do with your job."

"It does have nothing to do with my job."

House glared. "It has a caduceus on the cover." He said showing the cover of the book and sure enough, there sat a caduceus.

"This is not why we're here." Michael said. "As much as I enjoy this bit of banter…"

House scoffed loudly before he could continue and leaned back. "We don't have to do anything, as long as they think we're doing something and simply them knowing we're here is them thinking we're doing what they told us to do."

"Huh?" James asked.

Michael seemed not to notice James and shot his answer back at House. "Not as long as they know you. Anyone who's spent a day with you would realize that you're not going to do what they asked you to do in a million years."

"Or they'll think that because they now that, that I would actually do what they tell me."

"I seriously doubt anyone would think that."

"What's going on?" James cried in a voice that cracked as he spoke, he couldn't exactly raise it as good as he used to.

Michael sighed and leaned forward onto the bed. "We are required to take a couple therapy sessions to help us get over what happened. We just got out of a duel one… together. That was a fun session, but now we're both required to come here and talk to you about how we feel."

"Not doing it." House stated as he reached over and stole some of the candy James had sitting on the nightstand, judging by the box it was in it had to of been by one of his ex-wives. Not expensive enough to say they still loved him but just expensive enough to say they were worried.

"I wouldn't expect either of you to want to do it…" James murmured.

"And neither of us wants to." House grunted. "We discussed this on the way over as long as they think we're talking about it then we're good."

"But they'll ask us to talk about it."

"Not if we say we're not ready." He said rolling his eyes.

During the conversation James at there in the bed staring forward listening to what they were saying. They were in therapy? That meant he would have to go to therapy for sure and that was the last thing he wanted, he was surprised they didn't start it yet. But then again, they probably didn't because he still wasn't fully healed.

He always hated therapy, every since he went through it with his first wife. If you could withstand it then that's fine, go and take advantage of it, but he just couldn't. He found it boring and he didn't necessarily like people telling him how he should run his marriage. Though he probably should start to take the advice, after three divorces you could never be too careful.

"Therapy?" James asked. "They're making you go through therapy?"

"Yeah…" House drawled out. "Sucks beyond knowing."

"And now you have to come and talk to me about it?"

Michael shrugged. "Yeah, it's sorta my fault, I kinda told the therapist a couple things that maybe I could of kept to myself. Even though that is the point of therapy, isn't it, to tell them… stuff."

Now James was curious. "What things?"

The two older men sighed and held their head in an eerily similar way. "Well," he began explaining. "I said something along the lines of…" That was when the incoherent mumbling began.

James glared as his elder brother to the best of his ability. "Because I heard every word of that." He said sarcastically when he was sure Michael was done.

"I'm sorry, Jimbo, just not really into the whole spilling guts thing."

"That sounds pleasant." House murmured.

"Okay well," Michael began again. "Let's just leave it at I was scared. I mean you're my baby brother… you are the baby of the family! It's my job to protect you and I just I did a pretty lousy job at it."

"He's always the baby." House continued with a smirk. "Even here."

James looked jokingly appalled. "What about Chase, Forman and Cameron? They're younger then me. Shouldn't they be the baby… s."

"But they're not." House argued and pointed to his friend. "You are. You were deemed the baby among the head staff before any of them came along. You're the youngest, and therefore the baby."

"Am I?"

"Yup, Cuddy's the mommy, of course, Dr. Wallace is the daddy." Dr. Wallace was one of the older doctors in the staff, he was head of cardiology. "Dr. Morgan is the nanny." She was head of pediatrics. "And the rest are a variety of cousins and aunts and uncles."

"And where do you fall in this equation?" James asked making himself comfortable against the pile of pillows behind him.

House looked surprised. "Well… I'm your big brother." He glanced to Michael. "When that guys not around."

James smiled and nodded but before he could finish Michael spoke up. "Of course he is, I mean someone's gotta look after you when I'm not around. You're too accident prone, Jim."

"I'd hate to see what those fourteen years of your life were like before I came around." House said with a straight face. "You're in trouble every other week."

"Now that's not true." James protested.

"No, it is." Michael broke in. "You were always getting your knee skinned or falling off your skateboard, or getting shoved in a locker…"

House raised a brow.

James rolled his eyes. "Yes, I've been shoved in a locker. But only when I was a kid, it stopped when I got into high school."

"I bet the people who did that are living in a trailer park with twenty five kids and thirty ex-wives." House mused.

He laughed and settled against the pillows closing his eyes momentarily, he was starting to get a little tired but he didn't wan to go back to sleep. "Casue that's so much better then living in a hotel."

House sighed. "Yeah, about that… you don't live their anymore." James gave him an odd look. "You live with me now."

"Again?" He moaned.

"Well yeah, I'm not letting you out of my sight for a while. Besides you'll need time to recover in an actual home, not in that rat infested place you picked for shelter." He said taking his legs off the bed and leaning forward. "We all think it's the best course of action."

"Oh no, you and Mike agree on something? Hell has now frozen over."

"Jimbo, I'm not exactly House's biggest fan, but over the years of him relentlessly hanging around I've gotten used to him. I agree, I don't want you living in a hotel and I wish you'd of told me stuff was going on. You know I would've come here in the blink of an eye."

He shrugged. "I didn't think it was a big deal. Everything was going along fine."

Michael bent forward so his face was closer to James's and he bit his lip before speaking. "Look, I hate to do this to you, but consider what happened in the parking lot. I don't like you living there anymore I wouldn't of liked you living their in the first place if I had known. Now I know you were targeted… because they knew you." He hesitated to say. "But I can't help but think that maybe this wouldn't of happened in maybe you were living in a proper apartment, or even with House, or at least it could have been stopped before it got this far… you had us all really worried for a while there."

"Sorry…" James whispered looking down.

House shook his head. "Don't say sorry, it's not your fault and whether you like it or not you're living with me. You're never going back to that hotel ever again, you'll live me until you find your next wife if that's the way it has to be and then come back once you divorce her."

James gave out a huff of a laugh.

"You look tired." House continued noticing his behavior. "Why don't you get some sleep?"

"What were you gonna tell me?" James asked before drifting off into sleep. "I mean, what you told the therapist and all?" He was still curious.

Michael gave a shrug. "We told you… just that… just that you had us all worried, really worried. You have two people hanging around you trying to keep you out of trouble and you still manage to find it."

He smiled faintly. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Michael said as he opened the door and left the room.

House stayed behind. "Ever." He said forcefully and then walked out the door and went in the opposite direction that Michael went.


	15. Remember

**AN: **Long chapter ahead for you guys as a final goodbye, I hope I'm tying up all the lose ends and if I don't tell me and I'll gladly write it in somewhere or… whatever. I just wanna thank all of you for the wonderful reviews they kept me going, they're like sugar, or caffeine, God, caffeine makes me crazy. But anyway, I had a lot of fun with this story, which might sound weird since this is an angst story… bleh, whatever, I'll miss writing this story, thanks you guys for everything! See you next time!

By the way, before I go on ahead and finish this story lets just all put up a plea that James really isn't leaving the hospital or worse slowly getting written out of the show. I know they won't because that would be stupidest move in TV show history (right up there with killing off Carson is Stargate: Atlantis). He can't leave that would be idiotic but just in case lets all just hope together and maybe our hope will slap the writers back to their senses…

He's not leaving… I won't allow it.

Remember

He was staying with House, of course, where else would he be? Neither Michael or his parents lived in the area and he wasn't about to go back to the hotel, besides, he needed supervision for a little while and what better to do that then a doctor. A relapse was not something he needed right now especially today, it was the court date and if he started dry heaving and coughing up blood he doubted he would show and no matter how much he wanted to avoid this he knew he had to go.

He stood I front of the mirror in the bathroom trying to decipher if he was even court worthy. The bruises were now long gone but he was still white as a sheet and the bags under his eyes made him look like the walking dead not to mention he had lost a bit of weight. His suit hung a little loose on him then it normally would have but he wasn't swimming in it, be thankful for small favors he supposed. Nocturnal

There was a knock at the bathroom door which made him jump slightly and pull him from his inner monologue. "Huh?" He asked dumbly.

"C'mon," House said on the other end. "Hurry up in there I thought you were the one so concerned about being on time?"

James glanced down at his watch and realized they should have left almost five minutes ago. He cursed to himself and walked to the door, he unlocked it and then swung it open to reveal an anxious House standing on the other side. If James didn't know better he would have thought there was a wedding, but then again House didn't even dress up this nice for that.

He was in a suit and even held a tie, though on his feet he still wore sneakers, he didn't shave but it did look like he made an attempt at trimming his scruff. "Are you ready yet?" House asked incredulously. "I'm pretty sure prom already started 'cause the limo's been waiting for us for about twenty minutes."

With a shadow of a grin of his face he limped out of the bathroom with his own cane in toe and headed out to the living room. "Yeah…"

House furrowed his brow slightly and walked over making sure he was in James's line of vision. "Hey, you okay?"

James took a deep breath before answering. "No… no not really, but this isn't something I can put off forever… is it?"

"Well I would." House shrugged and then noticed James's look and let out a long sigh. "Yeah, I get it. Let's go, the sooner we get this over with the better."

James gave more of a grumbling mumble then a reply but he knew this was inevitable, no matter how much he wanted to run into the bedroom and hide under the covers. He had to do this. He had to face his fears… no matter how much they scared him and haunted his dreams.

They made their way to the front door of the apartment complex and over to the car, it was a slow process since both men were now limping, James a little more then House for once. It was about a twenty minute drive to the court house which meant it was about twenty minutes until James went into a panic attack, or maybe even had a mini stroke, either way, as long as it got him out of there.

* * *

"Remember moral support." Michael said as he walked out of the hospital with Cuddy, Chase, Forman and Cameron following behind him. "No gasping or freaking out at the pictures of the accusations or anything…"

"Michael," Cuddy began placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We were all on duty when he was admitted. I don't think there's much we haven't seen."

"I know," he sighed. "That little talk was for me…"

She smiled warmly at him and gave his shoulders s rub. "You'll be fine, and if it's too much for you just look away."

"I don't know if I'll be able to though, I mean all you guys," he motioned around to the doctors surrounding him. "See this kinda stuff everyday! I'm an architect! The worst I've seen is a poorly designed building fall on little plastic people in a model…" he hung his head in his hands and took deep breaths.

"I'm sure you'll hold up." Cameron said with a reassuring smile. "You're his brother, he needs you most right now and that can get you through anything… or I think it can." She added sheepishly.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, just hold me back when I try to kill the people who did this to my baby brother." He growled folding his arms across his chest.

"Might have a bit of trouble with that," Chase mumbled. "I think you won't be the only one who's going to have to be held back."

Michael smiled, happy that James managed to acquire such good friends over the years. "Well then, it's a good thing these sort of functions have security, huh?" He asked with a forced smile.

Forman nodded and walked a few steps forward. "Doesn't look like we'll have to be held back if we never make it." He gently reminded them looking pointedly at his watch.

Upon seeing the time the group held in a sharp intake of breath. "Oh…" She moaned and lead the way to the parking lot so they could get a move on they would already be late, but maybe if they hit all the green lights they could possibly be on time.

* * *

So far everything was going along fine. James sat in his seat with his lawyer sitting right next to him. He couldn't help but feel a little nervous, less then twenty feet away from him were the people who inflicted so much pain on him, he couldn't even bring himself to look up at them yet.

House was sitting almost directly behind him, along with Michael, Cuddy, Forman, Cameron and Chase. He couldn't be happier they were all here, he didn't know what he would do if he had to go through this alone, he probably wouldn't make it. But the one thing that he wasn't too fond of, sitting directly behind them were his mother and father, he didn't want them to see. They were his parents they weren't supposed to see their son beaten to a bloody pulp and unconscious. It wasn't right.

He wasn't really paying attention to the trial; they would be convinced no matter what the case against them was just too strong. So when they called his name he almost jumped out of his skin and looked up to see his lawyer standing in front of him with a look in his eyes he didn't think lawyers had the power of possessing. Sympathy.

"I'm sorry," James began and shook his head for a moment. "What was that?"

"Could you please take the stand? You need to testify." He said quietly allowing James to take in the information.

"Oh, sure." James said and stood up grabbing the cane; his lawyer walked him over to the stand and waited patiently while he sat down on the bench. He scanned the room and everyone's eyes were planted firmly on him, he felt a bit like an animal at the zoo.

"Do you promise to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?" The large man asked.

James nodded before he spoke. "I do."

"Dr. Wilson." His lawyer asked walking up to him. "Can you describe in detail exactly what happened the night you were abducted?"

"I was at the hospital; I was trying to finish up some paperwork."

"What exactly do you do at the hospital?"

"I'm Head of the Oncology Department."

"Let it be recognized that Dr. Wilson is a respected member of the community, he saves lives for a living, which is more then I can say for the defendants."

James was expecting the lawyer of the criminals to jump up and yell 'objection' or whatever lawyers did but when he glanced over he saw they didn't have a lawyer. They were representing themselves, this only made him squirm more, this meant they knew they were doomed and now they just wanted to see him suffer as he relived it. This was perfect.

"Continue Dr. Wilson." His lawyer stated as he continued to pace the room.

"I decided to go home eventually, it was late, a little too late I guess, uh, I drove to the hotel,"

"Why are you staying at a hotel?"

"I had a divorce." He replied simply, the lawyer was trying to establish sympathy, like he needed any more.

"Thank you, you may proceed."

"I got out of my car and while I'm walking to my room a car approaches me and asks me for directions, I thought it was strange but they claimed they were expected at their sisters house, or sister-in-law or someone and they didn't have much time to spare… I believe them. I tried to help but next thing I know I was hit over the head with something and then they said something else… I can't remember it now… sorta fuzzy."

"What about when you woke up?" He asked quietly.

"Uh… it was dark… cold. There was water dripping from somewhere. My hands were tied behind my back." He was now staring off into space as the horrible memory flooded his mind. "My ankles were tied too… then the door opened and they came down." He glanced over at the faces of the three people who managed to make his life hell.

"Who came down?"

"Steven and Sarah Carthwall." He breathed. "And Daniel Worthen."

"You're sure it was them?"

_It's all your fault!_

"Of course."

"How?"

He looked up at his lawyer. "They told me, his sister and his wife and sister-in-law she was… she was a patient of mine, she died, I couldn't save her."

"Then what happened."

"They beat me," he said choosing to leave the part of him screaming like a child, caving into Carthwall's demands. "Then uh, they left." He said quickly also leaving out Sarah's creepy possession over him. "It's all sort of jumbled together… I fell asleep but they came back down again they had a… they had a knife. And then he uh… uh he…"

"Need I remind you Dr. Wilson, you are under oath."

_Stupid Heeb!_

"He uh, he called me a Goddamned Yid." He said quickly early a gasp throughout the room. "Then he cut me… a lot… he wrote things on me…" He looked down at his hands that twitched nervously on his lap. He could have sworn he heard his mother cry out. "They kept coming back," he whispered completely lost in the memory. "They wouldn't stop, I begged them but… they wouldn't…"

His lawyer took a deep breath. "Thank you, Mr. Wilson, you may return to your seat. I would now like to call up Dr. Gregory House to the stand." As they past one another House gave James a reassuring clasp on the shoulder before limping his way up to the stand.

James was in such a daze he didn't even register what was going on, all he knew was that he had to go back to his seat and then he saw House standing next to him with a small smile. When he sat down there were more comforting hands patting him on the shoulder, but he didn't run around to acknowledge them, he stood still and got lost in his own thoughts which probably wasn't the best thing at the moment.

"I found James in his hotel room." House said using his first name for a change. "He was bloody, beaten and barley conscious, I called an ambulance and stabilized him best I could before they got there."

"You work at the hospital with Dr. Wilson, am I correct?"

Normally House would have made some snappy remark but this time he kept his mouth shut. "Yes, I'm Head of Diagnostics."

"Thank you, please, proceed."

"We took him to the hospital, none of his injuries were life threatening he would live but then… then we found out he was infected with pneumonic plague. They gave it to him somehow; his chances of survival were fifteen percent. He's still not up to his full strength yet but he made it… he survived." He gave James a small smile.

"An incredible story, wouldn't you say?" The lawyer asked the jury. "Fifteen percent chance of survival with a bombardment of injuries to top it off and this man survived so he could come here today and tell us his story." He motioned to James. "Now, Dr. House, we have some images taken not long after Dr. Wilson was rescued do we not?"

"We do."

"Could we please show them?"

James shut his eyes but that didn't block out the gasps that chorused throughout the door, that time he defiantly heard his mother cry. Cracking his eye open he had to suppress a cry himself, if he didn't know better he wouldn't of known it was him. House described the injuries and the specifics of each photo but he couldn't listen to it, he was too absorbed in the photos. Then the ones that really hit him showed up, the wounds that now scarred his skin for ever. The Star of David on his shoulder, the word 'failure' spelled out across his chest, Yid on his other arm…

He lowered his head, these people were sick and now because of them he would be forever scarred. That is until he got some plastic surgery done to cover them, it was a lot to cover… what if he couldn't afford it? He would have to have these scars, these constant reminders of the torture he went though. He wouldn't be able to go to the beach anymore, he liked the beach but he also wasn't one of the guys who felt the need to wear the t-shirt in the water. He would have to now.

He shook his head and pulled himself from his own mind, House was done talking, the pictures were gone and there were murmurs in the court room. He didn't know if he could stand by any longer and listen to this. People were talking around him but it was all in a muffled haze, he felt like passing out. This was too much of a toll on his system, the stress was overwhelming, he knew he should have been used to stress by now but he couldn't handle it.

The room was spinning.

He felt light headed.

He was dizzy.

A headache evident in his skull.

"I…" he breathed gathering the attention of some of the people around him. "I'm gonna pass out."

Just like that the world went black around him.

* * *

There was screaming and shouting, and laughing around him, particularly the high pitched shrill that could only belong to Sarah as she giggled and squealed like a child. He even heard her cry out things to her brother in triumph, she was glad he passed out, she was taking joy in it. They yelled things; he didn't catch them he was in that confusing stage of being awake but… not. He was stuck in the middle and he was sure in a few moments he would be gone for good. His head hurt, bad, he didn't think he hit it on the way down, or maybe he did? He didn't know, at the moment he could barley remember where he was. That was when everything faded from him again and he slipped away.

He woke up on the floor of the court room with blurred vision and about a dozen people gazing over him. But the person who was hovering closest was House; behind him were the assortment of doctors who were in the room. He shut his eyes completely again, he wasn't sure if they noticed he had awoken.

"Greg?" He moaned. "What happened?"

"Passed out." House said gruffly as James dully noticed that he was supporting his head.

James tried to stand up but was pushed down by House, that's when he realized he must have been in a painful situation if he was this close to him on the ground. His leg didn't allow him to get down on his knees easily.

"You stay down until we can get an ambulance here then you're going straight back to the hospital." House ordered.

He shook his head. "No, no, House I'm fine, I just need to rest a bit."

"And you'll be doing that at the hospital were we can keep an eye on you." Cuddy answered. "No buts about it."

"You're not my mother." James grumbled as he tried to sit up again, this time House let him.

"No." Said the sharp tone and he closed his eyes, he had forgotten they were all here. "But I am and you are going right back to that hospital James Evan Wilson! I will not have my son going home after something like this, you need rest and you'll do it where all these nice men and women can watch you."

"Mom…" he tried to protest.

"I will not hear it!" She quipped standing over by his father, Michael was one of the people standing over him. "Greg, keep an eye on him, will you? I can't watch him twenty four seven but you can."

He looked over and saw House smirking beside him. "Yes, Mrs. Wilson." House replied like they were still in school. He continued to smirk until he saw James wince. "You okay, man?"

"Yeah… just a headache." He whispered shutting his eyes against the lights of the room. "Just this is one way to get outta doing this, huh?"

"I just wish you could have alerted me before you did it." House played along. "I mean I'm all for getting out of responsibilities, but this is taking it a bit far, don't you think?"

James chuckled and lowered his hand from his head just when sirens were heard in the distance. "How long was I out?" He mumbled knowing well that the ambulance couldn't get here that fast if he was out for only a few seconds.

"A few good minutes." House answered. "Started getting worried, I couldn't wake you up."

"Oh…"

"Are you tired?"

"Yeah."

"Once we get you checked over properly you can, not yet though. Do you understand me?"

"M'not deaf."

"Just making sure." House replied defensively. "You seem kinda out of it."

He cracked a smile and nodded. "I kinda am."

The door burst open and they heard the familiar noises of the paramedics rushing in ready to take over the situation. He looked around and saw that House was quickly helped up by Chase and Forman, he was surprised he let the two younger doctors help him. But in another way he wasn't, he knew House didn't want to be in the way and getting up from the position he was in on the floor would not only be painful for him, but it would take a while.

He felt himself getting lifted up and placed on the gurney as the paramedics bustled about around him. He wasn't aware of too much during the ride, he knew House once again rode with him in the back and the paramedic was asking him a bunch of questions. He felt like passing out again, exhaustion was taking over his body until finally he couldn't take it any longer and he slipped into a blissful sleep.

* * *

When he awoke sometime later he found himself in a hospital bed. He was really getting sick of this place. With a quick glance he saw the House was by his side with the TV on, he was watching a soap opera.

"Which one is it?" James asked shifting his position in the bed and blinking a few times to clear his vision.

"Days of our Lives." House answered picking up the remote to turn the TV off. "Repeat," he said rolling his eyes. "How are you?"

"Tired."

"Are you?"

He nodded. "How long was I out?"

"About, oh." He looked down at his watch for effect. "Twenty seven hours give or take a few seconds."

He looked up in shock. "Are you serious?"

"When am I not? Listen, James, have you been sleeping at all?" He asked with true concern in his voice. "People don't just pass out and sleep that long from being overstressed which you are by the way."

"I've slept," he said rubbing his eyes and when he peeked past them he noticed the disbelieving look House was giving him. "Okay, so maybe not very well…"

"Why not?"

He shrugged. "I dunno, nightmares sometimes, thinking too much."

House could have made a joke right there, some smarted assed quip, but he didn't. he gave an nod and leaned back in the seat and didn't say a word.

"What happened after I left the court house?" James asked looking up at him.

"They're guilty, jury was quick with it, apparently they didn't have much a case. The sister on the other hand is having a physiological evaluation, they all had one but she was the only one who seemed to really be a nut job. The chances are in her favor that she'll be stuck in a loony bin until the end of her days. The other two got thirty three years in prison, there's no chance either of them'll get out any sooner.

"Thirty three years." James repeated, a much as he hated the men and wished them to be locked away for ever he knew that was impossible. It was attempted murder and you couldn't get life for attempted, oh wow, it felt so weird to say like that they tried to murder him.

"Yes, thirty three years, apparently the judge thought they deserved a little more then the normal sentence for attempted murder." He lowered his voice in saying it himself, as if it was a taboo. "But anyway, you won't have to ever worry about them again. You have my word on that… Now! I told Michael I would call him when you woke up, he stayed for about six hours before Cuddy told him to go home."

"How come you're not at home?"

He looked at him dumbly and didn't make a move to call his brother. "'Casue I work here."

"Oh, of course." James nodded. "So, before you run off to go call Mike, when can I get outta here?"

House shrugged. "I wouldn't see any harm in taking you home tonight but I'm sure Cuddy would want you to spend another night, just for observation."

"Yeah… I really just wanna go home or well not home per se, but back to your –" House never gave him the chance to finish his sentence.

"Jimmy." House said in a deep commanding voice. "It's home, okay? Now I think we all know I'm not good at this touchy feely gooey crap, but my house is your house. You've lived with me before and we're gonna do it again."

"I feel bad doing this to you."

"What's there to feel bad about?" House asked incredulously. "We're splitting the rent just like we did before, I'll even give you the bed for a while until you feel back up to speed but then your ass is back on the couch. We get to car pool to work, I get to hang with my best friend without having to beg him to hit the bar with me! It'll be great!"

"Who goes to a bar when you can just get drunk off your ass at home with a friend watching bad movies?" James smirked.

"Exactly!" House cried.

James snickered. "Alright, I'm living with you. But I will eventually find my own place."

"That's what you say now."

Stiffing a grin he waved his friend out of the room. "Just go call Mike and maybe if you run into Cuddy beg her to let me leave tonight."

"I'll see what I can do, oh and expect Forman, Chase and Cameron, it won't take long before the word spreads out that you're awake and they'll want to see you… so hide now."

"I'll keep that in mind." He smiled broadly and waited for House to leave the room and walk down the hall to the receptionist's desk, he must not have had his cell phone on him, or maybe he didn't have Michael's number.

James leaned back in the bed and sighed shifting the crisp sheets around him, why did the hospital always use the whole bottle of starch when they did laundry? He didn't really dwell on that thought for too long though, he had other things to mull over.

It was all over, for the most part at least, he still had a handful of therapy to attend they had one session but not much was really said. He wasn't exactly in an opening-up-of-the-soul type of mood that day. But now maybe he could, now that he knew the fate of his captors. He would still have to live with the scars and see them in the mirror everyday and see them whenever he looked down at his chest with a shirt off. Short sleeves were out of the question for a while, at least fall was coming now his whole summer had been spent in the hospital. That was just peachy.

But now he could get on with his life, sure he wouldn't be going back to work for at least two weeks but still. It would be nice to go out and start living again, he hadn't gone out with House on a Friday night and gotten drunk in what seemed like an eternity. Maybe he could even get more acquainted with Forman, Chase and Cameron over the time he was… incapacitated they proved that they cared. Inviting Cuddy would be weird, she was his friend but she was also his boss and she normally frowned upon them getting drunk.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw House walking back in the room. He threw his cane against the wall where his own was still sitting. "Called Michael, he'll be here in a half hour he's picking up your parents on the way. Cuddy is being informed, I wasn't the one to tell her the nurse did it behind my back and no doubt she'll bring the fabulous trio along with her."

"That's good," James gave a ghost of a smile as he stared off in space.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing… just… I guess I'm just sorta happy." He gave a small laugh looking over at House.

He stared at him for a few moments which only made James chuckle a little bit. "Did you take the happy pills?" He asked.


End file.
